


I'll Cover You

by isengard



Category: Marvel (Comics), Young Avengers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Animal Shelter, M/M, all you need to know is that I am a disgrace, everyone is a dog, mad men references, or a cat, post-grad adventures of teddy and billy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-11-20 20:59:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 58,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isengard/pseuds/isengard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Animal Shelter!  Billy just got his first job as a junior copywriter for Marvel Agencies, and decides that living on his own would be much more tolerable if he had an animal friend.  He pays a visit to the animal shelter, where he falls not only for a rambunctious puppy named Tommy, but for the shelter's Care and Training specialist, Teddy Altman.</p><p>Also, the rest of the Young Avengers are dogs.</p><p>Hijinks ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to [Isabelle](http://theappleppielifestyle.tumblr.com), without whom I probably would never have gotten through this.
> 
> fanart for this fic (which I LOVE you guys for doing, you can't even believe) is all right here:  
> [Teddy, Billy, & Tommy](http://cris-art.tumblr.com/post/45656238734/this-drawing-is-inspired-by-one-of-my-favorite) by [Cris](http://cris-art.tumblr.com/)  
> [Tommy](http://nekoriyukiart.tumblr.com/post/45180829193/tommy-shepard-or-is-it-tommy-kaplan-in-this-one) by [Nekori](http://nekoriyukiart.tumblr.com/)  
> [Tommy](http://roysterr.tumblr.com/post/41103452449/hehehe-tommy-as-a-pitbull-puppy-3-gotten) by [Mashy](http://roysterr.tumblr.com/)  
> [Ric/Star](http://xenokink.tumblr.com/post/38798328070/i-drew-rictor-pup-and-shatterstar-cat-from) by [Alien](http://xenokink.tumblr.com/)  
> if you draw something, let me know and I'll add it to the list!
> 
> *end notes have a photoset of what the puppies look like, if you want to know before/while reading

“I just don’t understand why you had to come all the way to Midtown,” Rebecca Kaplan is saying for the hundredth time, casting a critical eye on the untidy state of her son’s kitchen. “There were plenty of places close by.”

Billy groans and leans against the wall. “Mom, Jesus. I’m just on the other side of the park. It’s really not that big of a deal.”

“It’s a good-sized place,” his dad remarks, looking approvingly at the picture window Billy’s got with an almost-view of Grand Central. “What is it again, six hundred square feet?”

“Six-fifty,” Billy tells him proudly. “Found it through my old roommate.”

“Rent control?”

“No, but,” Billy shrugs, “eighteen’s not bad for this neighborhood. And you noticed the functional elevator?” He laughs. “Not like my last studio.”

His mother is still frowning. If it was up to her, he’d be living in the apartment next door to them, and she’d eventually find a way to convince the landlord to let her take down the wall. “Won’t you be lonely all the way over here?” she presses.

“Actually, I thought about that.” Billy rubs his palms together, hoping his parents aren’t going to shit all over him for the idea he’s been mulling over since he saw the words “Pet Friendly” on the lease. “I’m getting a dog.”

They both stare at him, open-mouthed. “A _dog_?” Jeff repeats, turning his whole body away from the window to face Billy. “Are you sure you’re ready for that kind of responsibility, son?”

Billy’s cheeks flush, but he keeps his chin up. “Yeah, I’m sure. I have my own place, and my work lets us bring our dogs to the office on days when we don’t have client meetings. And, I mean, uh,” he stumbles for a moment because his mother’s expression has turned thoughtful, and he never knows if that’s good or not, “a dog would be good for, like, protection and stuff.” 

Those seem to be the magic words for his mother, but his father snorts. “Unless you get a Pomeranian.”

Billy rolls his eyes. “I’m not _that_ gay, dad.”

“You know, sweetie, there was a _very_ cute boy downstairs when you buzzed us in,” Rebecca says in what she clearly imagines to be an offhanded way. “He was tall, dark hair – he got off on the fourth floor, if you want to – ”

“Okay!” Billy exclaims, springing forward off the wall and practically running to get his shoes. “Thanks, but. I think I’ll stick with the dog, for right now. One commitment at a time. Come on,” he waves to them, pulling his scarf off the hook. “You’ve seen my place. Let’s grab brunch.”

***

Some hours later, his parents have gotten into a taxi and Billy’s back in front of his new building, coffee in hand, smiling like an idiot up at the weathered brick structure. He’s a fucking adult now – his own place, a great job, he’s getting a dog – things couldn’t be better, really.

 _Or_ , maybe they could. A guy jogs past him up the steps to the front of their building and pulls out a set of keys. He’s around Billy’s age, early twenties, built as hell with dark, close-cropped hair and a fitted flannel shirt that makes Billy’s mind go to inappropriate places in about half a second. Could this be the guy his mom was talking about? 

“Hey, hold the door?” he calls, walking up after him.

The guy gives him a stiff nod and braces the door open with one large hand, and Billy smiles gratefully. “Thanks.”

The guys shrugs. “Sure.” He hits the button for the elevator, and Billy looks at his shoes for a few seconds before blurting out, “I’m Billy. Um, Kaplan. I just moved in. 602B.”

“Oh.” The guy looks at him as though he’s just officially noticed him, and extends a hand. “John Kessler. 406A.”

“Cool,” Billy smiles again, shaking it. John pulls away pretty quickly, he notices. He’s pinging Billy’s straight-dar pretty hard, which is unsurprising, because Billy has a definite thing for unattainable straight guys.

The elevator creaks down, finally, and they step in. There’s a poster on the wall for Pride Week that Billy suspects his mother put up when they first arrived, because it wasn’t there yesterday. He notices John tense up and looks determinedly elsewhere.

“Ugh.” John breaks the awkward silence. “It’s bad enough I have to see this shit everywhere I go. Now the fags are invading the home front.” He shakes his head in disgust. “You know? They can have the Garment District, but fuck if I’m gonna watch them take over Midtown and wave their gay flags in _my_ goddamn house.” He reaches up and rips the poster down, crumpling it between hands that Billy suddenly no longer wants anywhere near him.

His heart is pounding, and he hears himself say, “Um,” and then the elevator opens at the fourth floor, and John glances at him suspiciously before walking out.

Billy thinks he hears him say, “See you,” and then the doors close again, and Billy lets out the breath he’s been holding in an almost sob of relief. So. His neighbor is a probably violent homophobe. Awesome. This can just be like high school all over again. _Don’t worry, Mom. Turns out its not that different across the park_.

Back inside his apartment and feeling marginally safer, he tidies the kitchen, still sweating a little from anxiety. New York is, by all accounts, a great place to be gay, or so he’s heard. It seems like a lot of the same, honestly. The gay community at Columbia was brutally small and not that accepting of him since he didn’t act like he was on _Sex and the City_ , and it hasn’t been much easier to meet people after college. There’s the fear that they’ll wind up being psychopaths, like John Kessler apparently is, and beyond that, a “near-pathological” fear of rejection, according to his mother.

But that’s what’s so great about a dog, right? No rejection, no betrayal worse than eating your cheeseburger or taking a dump behind the couch. Billy can deal with that. A dog’s not gonna lie to him or cheat on him, lead him on and then treat him like crap. A dog will still love him if he says the wrong thing and embarrasses himself.

A dog will protect him if his neighbor tries to murder him in his sleep.

The plan _had_ been to give himself some time; scope out the local shelters and do some research on breeds, figure out what he wanted and when the best time to move a dog in would be. Now, he’s thinking there’s no time like the present. He wants his place to feel like a home, somewhere he’s made for himself, guarded against the outside world. The voluminous throw pillows his mom gave him aren’t bringing the full effect – he thinks it’s just not quite yet _lived_ -in enough.

A dog will take care of that problem in no time, he knows that much.

***

Eastern Manhattan Animal Shelter is the closest to his building, an easy six blocks towards the Upper East Side. The wind picks up on his walk over, bringing with it the chill of January in New York, and he’s glad for his scarf. It’s red wool, one of the flashier things he owns, and his favorite thing about it is that when it’s windy like this, the ends of the scarf billow out behind him like some kind of tattered cape. The hipster in him loves the tattered part; the nerd in him loves the cape part. He’s fairly certain everyone else just thinks it’s weird.

The shelter is tucked between a beautiful old brownstone and a small private park. The gate is wrought iron and creaks a little when he opens it, prompting a large, older-looking golden retriever to come bounding up to him, wagging its tail.

“Hey, boy!” Billy grins, ruffling the dog behind the ears. “Aw, who’s a good dog?”

The retriever’s eyes half-close reflexively as he leans into Billy’s touch, then he sets about sniffing him. _Very_ thoroughly. “Whoa there buddy, I’m sort of attached to those,” Billy winces as the dog shoves its nose between his legs. “Jeez – okay – ”

“Cap! Stand down!”

The retriever leaps back and sits down at once; back straight, eyes bright and alert. Billy hears a door slam, and looks up to see a guy striding towards them, carrying a calico cat.

Actually, he doesn’t notice the cat until it’s on the ground rubbing against the golden retriever’s legs, and even then, it barely registers as a thing that is happening, because this _guy_. Holy mother of God, this fucking guy. Blue eyes, blonde hair, broad chest and narrow hips, straight out of a fucking Abercrombie catalog (Billy’s choice of tug mags until he was fifteen), save the thin silver cuffs going all the way up both his ears.

“Sorry about that,” he grins, rubbing the dog affectionately on the head. “Cap’s all business right outta the gate.”

He has _dimples_. Billy doesn’t even know his own name.

“What can I do for you?”

Billy’s brain instantly fills about twelve volumes of shit this guy could do for him (to him, whichever), and he eloquently replies, “Um.”

“Teddy Altman,” the guy says, warmly offering his hand. “I’m in charge of animal care here.”

In what must be divine intervention, Billy gets his shit together enough to shake Teddy’s hand and say, “Billy Kaplan. Customer.” That’s probably the wrong word; this is a nonprofit organization. “I mean…prospective dog parent?”

He half hopes Cap will just go Cujo on him at this point and put him out of his misery, because _what the fuck_.

Teddy just grins easily. His cheeks are flushed, Billy notices, and although he entertains the idea that Teddy’s blushing for a fraction of a second, it’s probably just because he’s cold. “Cool. Come on in, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

Cap and his cat friend follow dutifully at their heels, and when they walk into the building, Billy looks around, expecting to see – well, people.

“Everyone?” he asks hesitantly, gesturing to the utter lack of human presence in the room.

Teddy rubs the back of his neck and laughs sheepishly. “I meant the animals,” he explains. “Hey Cap!”

Cap immediately looks up at him and barks once. “Good boy,” Teddy praises. “Cap, go find Carol! Go find her!”

Cap barks again and then turns and runs off.

“Who’s Carol?”

“You’ll see. Aw, Tony, come on, get out of there,” Teddy groans, rushing over to where the calico cat is drinking out of a mug on the desk. He sets the cat – Tony, Billy guesses – on the floor and peers into the mug, making a face. “Just once, I’d like to make it through the morning without getting cat hair in my coffee.”

Billy laughs a little and Teddy glances up at him, making him immediately blush head to toe. _Christ, Billy, it’s eye contact, not a marriage proposition_. He’s trying to think of something clever to say when Cap trots back in with a stunning blonde husky at his side.

“This is Carol,” Teddy says, scratching both dogs behind the ears. “She's the boss around here. Keeps everybody in line.” He nods to the open door the dogs came in from. “They’re all just finishing lunch; they’ll come say hi in a minute. ‘Atta boy, Cap. Go lie down.” He points to a dog bed in the corner of the room, and Cap walks over and flops down on it. He’s joined immediately by Tony, who curls up under his chin and starts grooming himself.

Carol sniffs Billy delicately, and he strokes her head. She seems very dignified, so he doesn’t puppy-talk to her. “She’s beautiful. Is she available for adoption?”

Teddy nods. “The only ones that aren’t are Cap and Fury over there.” He points to where a lean black cat is lounged at the top of a tiered scratching post, watching them all in a mildly interested way. “They belong to the owners.”

Billy kneels down to rub Carol’s furry neck and considers. “She seems pretty…uh. I don’t know. Intense. Does she play?”

Teddy nods, chuckling a little. “She plays all right. Not in the way you’re thinking, though. She plays to win.”

Carol fixes a blue eye on him with a challenging stare, and Billy swallows hard. She’s intimidating as fuck, which appeals to him, but he’s pretty sure he’d be way in over his head with her.

“Don’t be nervous,” Teddy says, walking over and scratching her roughly around the neck. “She’s a big softy deep down. You should see her with the puppies.”

Puppies. _There’s_ an idea, Billy thinks. He really shouldn’t get a puppy – he’s never had one, and he has it on good authority that they are a fuck ton of work, but they’re so _cute_ – 

Suddenly, the room is filled with the sound of barking and scrabbling claws. Four dogs come charging in, water dribbling from their mouths, tails wagging furiously, all making a beeline right for Billy.

“Jesus – ”

Carol stands up next to him, ears pricked, and all the dogs stop except one. Billy tries not to squeal and fails as a fluffy Welsh corgi jumps up on his leg, stubby little legs working furiously to knock him over. He leans over to pet it, and it licks at his hands so frantically that he can’t help laughing and sitting down so it can climb into his lap.

“Thor hates people, as you can tell,” Teddy says above him, arms folded, dimples creating deep shadows in his cheeks that Billy would die to press his mouth to. He takes a steadying breath and looks back at Thor.

“Corgi, right?”

“Thorgi,” Teddy jokes. “He’s a nut.”

“I love corgis,” Billy says, because it’s true, and because it’s impossible to deny the ball of fluff wriggling itself into butter in his lap. “Never met a Thorgi before, though.”

“Did you grow up with dogs?” Teddy asks, stroking the head of an Irish setter that’s standing very still next to him.

“No,” Billy tells him. He bites his lip. “But, uh, I might’ve been one of those kids with a dog encyclopedia that I carried around and memorized.” Oh, _excellent_ flirting tactic. Admit you’re a tragic headcase right off the bat.

“Dude,” Teddy laughs, “I used to fake sick just so I could stay home from school and watch _Breed All About It_ marathons. At least your way is academic.”

Billy grins stupidly, his mind gone strangely slow. He’s normally all about the witty banter, but it seems almost like Teddy’s flirting with _him_ , which would be crazy and not at all in line with the Way Things Go for Billy Kaplan. A whine from his lap brings him back to Earth, and he resumes rubbing Thor’s belly. “What’s his name?” he nods to the Irish setter.

“Murdock,” Teddy says affectionately, smoothing the dog’s sleek red fur. “He’s a little shy around new people, but once he gets to know you, he’s the life of the party. He’s blind, but it really doesn’t slow him down.”

Billy scoots forward, amid protests from Thor, to offer a hand to Murdock, who sniffs it cautiously. A chocolate lab trots over from where it was sniffing around Cap and Tony and butts its head into his hand, demanding attention.

“That’s Parker,” Teddy says. “He’s Murdock’s best friend. We’re adopting them together only.” He rubs a knuckle on top of Parker’s head. “I don’t suppose you’re looking to take two dogs home.”

“I live in a studio, so probably not. Unfortunately. Hey!” he laughs at the beagle that’s suddenly appeared under his arm. “Where’d you come from?”

“Bobbi will sneak up on you,” Teddy grins.

“She’s so small,” Billy notes, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her up to sit on his knee. “All these big dogs.”

Teddy snorts. “Trust me, she handles herself just fine. She can take most of these guys apart if she needs to.” He nods at Bobbi, who’s gazing up at him with devastating puppy-dog eyes. “Don’t even try that with me, girl. I’m onto you. You had your lunch, and probably half of Bucky’s.’

Billy looks around, but he doesn’t see any other dogs. “Where’s Bucky?”

Teddy shakes his head. “Bucky’s really shy. He was a firedog with Cap, but he had a close call before they retired him, and he hasn’t really recovered. Doesn’t come out when there’s strangers here.”

Billy makes a sad noise in the back of his throat and cuddles Thor to him a little harder. “I really like this guy.” He wonders, on a scale of one to ten, how gay of a dog a corgi is.

“Everybody does,” Teddy laughs. “He’s just – well, he’s shown particular resistance to obedience training, you might say. Lots of people have tried him out, but he always ends up back here.” He reaches down to nudge Thor’s furry neck and Billy holds his breath when Teddy’s fingers pass within an inch of his own. “Doesn’t seem to mind it. He’s happy anywhere.”

Thor probably wouldn’t be the most practical of guard dogs, but there’s something so infectious about him. He just radiates _dog_ , and Billy can’t help but kiss his nose, and immediately gets his face covered in dog slobber. He looks up to see Parker headbutting Murdock affectionately, and Tony sprawled out backwards over Cap’s face, and Carol with her paws up on a windowsill, tail wagging, eyes laser-focused like she sees a squirrel. Billy can hear shrill barking coming from somewhere outside.

“She’s watching the kids,” Teddy says, following Billy’s line of sight. “They must be getting into trouble.”

It’s _puppy_ barking he’s hearing. Billy’s heart clenches, and he hears himself say, “Can I see them?” _Stop it. You’re_ not _getting a puppy_.

“Sure thing.” Teddy whistles to the dogs and opens a door into the yard, and they all leap up from their various positions, even Cap, and race outside. Thor practically explodes trying to get out before everyone else, and Billy’s left with a considerable pile of fur in his lap.

Teddy laughs at the state of his jeans. “Forgot to mention Thor’s a shedder.”

“You don’t say,” Billy mumbles, trying to brush all the hair off. It’s futile, he realizes. Maybe this is a sign he needs to step outside his narrow comfort zone of indigo wash Levis.

They walk outside, and Billy shivers a little at the chill that’s picked up. The puppies are kept in a separate building, sort of a kennel with two runs down the side and a room in the center full of toys and training equipment. They all run up to greet Teddy and Billy, barking and whining and falling over themselves with excitement.

The first one bowls Billy right over, a blur of white he doesn’t see properly until it’s on top of his face, licking him halfway to death and biting at his scarf. Teddy rescues him and scoops the dog under his arm. “Sorry about that. Tommy’s very…enthusiastic.” He chuckles as Billy wipes his face. “I have to say, he doesn’t normally get that affectionate with people. Usually too busy making trouble.” He sets Tommy down and then goes about introducing Billy to the rest of the puppies.

There are five in total, all different breeds. There’s Eli, an extremely wiggly brindle boxer puppy who snarls continuously at the others but nuzzles Billy’s hand when he offers it. There’s Kate, an impressive-looking King Charles spaniel who, Teddy tells him, was bred to be a champion show dog, but whose habit of chasing all the other dogs in the show ring caused her to end up at the shelter. Billy watches as she and Eli fight over a toy, growling and barking at each other.

“Cut it out, you two,” Teddy calls, tossing another toy their way. He smiles at Billy apologetically. “As you can probably tell, these guys are all in serious need of some training." 

Billy grins back, rubbing an oversized yellow lab named Cassie behind the ears. She collapses into a graceless heap at his feet, slobbering happily onto the floor. “Well, they’re puppies, right? They’re supposed to be all crazy.”

“…Yeah,” Teddy sighs heavily. “Sort of. They’re all a little different, though, I’ll be honest with you. We take a lot of special cases here at Eastern. A lot of these guys have been through one trauma or another, and they need a lot of work. That’s why they haven’t been adopted yet.”

A skinny black lab noses politely at his hand, and Billy pets him obediently. “He doesn’t seem so bad.”

“Jonas is great when he’s with other dogs,” Teddy agrees. “It’s when he’s on his own that he’s a problem. We got him from a research lab; he was raised in total isolation. Had never seen another dog until he got here.” He crosses his arms as he looks down at Jonas, brow creasing with worry. “Every time we try to work with him by himself, he just shuts down.”

Billy’s nearly knocked over again as Tommy hurtles into his lap, knocking Cassie and Jonas out of the way and rolling onto his back, chewing at the empty air next to the seam of Billy’s jeans. “Hey, boy,” he laughs. Tommy looks like he’s some kind of pit mix, and with his head lolled back and wide mouth hanging open in a happy smile, it’s hard not to fall a little bit in love with him. “Wow, he’s such a lover.”

Teddy looks utterly bemused. “I swear, I’ve never seen him act like this before. Normally he’d just be trying to eat your shoes.” He flashes those dimples again, and Billy stops breathing for a moment. “You must be special, Billy Kaplan.”

Billy swallows, hard. “I’ll take him.”

***

If he’d imagined it would be a simple matter of paying the hundred-dollar fee and taking Tommy home, he’s sorely mistaken. There are contracts to sign and forms to fill out, and he’d normally balk at so much paperwork, but _Teddy’s_ there, walking him through it, sitting within arm’s length on the other side of a desk. Fury the cat, who Billy sees now has one eye, sits on the corner of the desk and glares reproachfully at Tommy while he writes down what feels like his life history.

“This one’s for pet ownership history,” Teddy says, passing him a light purple form. “Just for the last ten years or whatever is fine.”

“It’ll be short,” Billy tells him wryly. “I had a goldfish when I was six, and a hamster when I was ten.”

“No shit?” Teddy looks surprised. “I know you said you didn’t grow up with dogs, but – I dunno, you just seem like such an animal lover.” He catches his lip between his teeth, and Billy stares for about a second too long. Blushing furiously, he stares down at his form.

“My mom’s allergic,” he manages to say. “Plus, I have two little brothers, so they were kind of like pets growing up.”

That makes Teddy _laugh_ , and Billy thinks it’s the best sound he’s ever heard in his life. Tommy headbutts him in the leg impatiently. “Almost done, buddy,” he mutters, scratching his cheek. “We’ll be home soon.”

“So, the last thing is obedience classes,” Teddy says. He sounds almost hesitant. “They’re not required, but especially for the puppies, they’re definitely recommended – Tommy seems really good with you, but I gotta say, he’s been known to be pretty destructive.”

“How much do they cost?” Billy asks.

“Oh, they’re free. It’d just be the regular training I do with the other puppies.”

Shit, if Teddy’s the one doing the classes, he’d pay a goddamn fortune. “When are they?”

Teddy laughs uneasily. “Uh, sort of whenever...at the moment. We don’t have very many volunteers, and the only other full-time person quit last month. Luke and Jess – the owners, I mean, haven’t hired anyone else. So it’s just me right now, and I mean, I basically do it when I have time. Every other day, around lunchtime usually.”

“Oh.” Billy’s heart sinks. “Well, I have work. So I probably wouldn’t be able to come then.”

Teddy leans back in his chair and drums his fingers against the desk, looking pensive. “What are your hours?”

“Nine to five, sometimes a little longer. I work at Marvel Agencies.”

Billy’s been working for the advertising giant for eight months now, but he never gets tired of name-dropping it and seeing people’s eyebrows shoot up, like Teddy’s are right now. “Damn,” Teddy grins. “What are you, like Don Draper over there?”

Billy laughs. “Dude, I wish. I’m just a copywriter. More of a Ken Cosgrove, if you will.”

“Easily the most underrated character,” Teddy nods. “That’s awesome, man. Uh – I hope this isn’t weird, can I ask how old you are?”

“Just turned twenty-four.” Billy debates for a moment, and then asks, “You?”

“Same. Well, my birthday was back in October, but. I’m twenty-four too. You, uh. You look younger.” Teddy’s cheeks redden a little, and Billy finds himself staring again.

“Oh, yeah, I know,” he says finally. “It’s a pain in the ass. Half the bouncers in the city think my ID is fake, I swear.”

Teddy makes a tutting sound in the back of his throat. “Whatever. I barely even get carded anymore. Starting to worry that I look forty or something.”

“No way. I wouldn’t’ve guessed you were a day over twenty-three,” Billy says quickly, and his stomach flips at the grin Teddy gives him in response. “They’re probably just scared you’ll beat them up, or something.” _Shut up, Billy_.

Teddy gives him a dubious look. “I’m sure that’s it.” He looks down at the desk, as if he’s just remembered why they’re there. “Right. So, obedience classes. Um, I could probably do an evening class? If you needed it?”

Billy wants to say _yes, please, I’ll come at three in the fucking morning, I’ll come in two feet of snow in the middle of the night on a weekday_ , but he hesitates. Teddy’s working all by himself with all these dogs, and he assumes a bunch of cats too that he hasn’t even seen – he doesn’t want to make him work harder than he already has to. Besides, how bad could Tommy really be? He’s a little rowdy, but he hardly seems the chaotic monster Teddy painted him as.

So instead, he says, “How about I’ll call you and let you know? We’ll do like, a test run. And if he’s bad, we can try and find a time that works.”

Teddy nods slowly. “Okay, sure. Well, if that’s it…you guys are good to go.” He smiles. “Welcome to dog ownership, Billy.”

Billy hopes Teddy doesn’t notice the shiver that goes over him when he says his name. “Awesome,” he says, grinning down at Tommy. “Ready to go home, boy?”

Tommy barks.

He stands and extends his hand halfway before he stops to wonder if he’s even supposed to do that, if Teddy’s going to think he’s weird, like this was just some business deal made over a game of golf that ends in a handshake, but Teddy reaches out and grasps his hand warmly, holding it for long enough that Billy’s mind goes blank, and then he maneuvers around the desk to see them out.

“Thanks,” Billy says lamely, pulling his scarf tighter around him as they step out into the cold. Carol barks from the yard, and Billy waves at her.

“Good luck,” Teddy calls as they head out the gate. From the tone of his voice, Billy can tell he thinks they’ll need it.

***

A quick stop at Petco and they’re headed up to the apartment, Billy’s arms laden with dog stuff, Tommy being entirely unhelpful by pulling frantically on the leash. “Chill,” Billy gasps, dropping the twenty-five pound bag of dog food on the ground to fish out his keys. The door swings open before he gets them out, and he gulps when John Kessler emerges to stand on the steps.

“Need any help?” he asks, and Billy really, _really_ wants to say no, but his arms are aching, and he’s pretty sure a pit bull is the least gay dog out there. Maybe John will even appreciate Tommy for his own fucked-up, hypermasculine reasons.

“Uh, just to the elevator, if you don’t mind,” he shrugs, trying to sound contrite.

John doesn’t reply, just heaves the food under one arm and the dog bed under the other. Billy scrambles to collect the rest of his bags and follows John to the elevator, trying to quiet his nerves. When John gets on the elevator, like he’s planning on going all the way to Billy’s apartment with him, he seriously considers bolting.

“Cool dog,” John says, once the elevator is moving.

“Thanks,” Billy replies. His voice is way too squeaky. “His name’s Tommy.”

John doesn’t say anything, but Billy notices that Tommy is bristling next to him. There’s a low, guttural sound emanating from him, and it takes a second before Billy realizes Tommy is _growling_ at John.

John smirks. “Not too friendly, huh?”

“I guess not,” Billy swallows.

“Yeah, I know how that goes,” John says. “My brother’s got a pit that almost took my arm off when I was a kid. They’re pretty badass.”

“Uh-huh.”

The elevator doors open, and Billy tugs Tommy along down the hall. “This is me,” he says once they’re outside his door. “Thanks, man. For the help.”

John nods at his keys in his hand. “You’re not gonna let me see inside?”

The back of his neck prickles with sweat, and he stammers, “Oh – oh yeah, sure, uh, let me just – it might be kind of messy – ” Jesus _Christ_ , the last thing he wants in the goddamn world is John Kessler inside his apartment, finding whatever proof he needs to send Billy to the hospital, but the alternative is admitting he doesn’t want John inside his apartment, and that just…seems worse, somehow. God, he _hates_ this. Feeling like some kind of fucking closet case in his own home.

“Nice,” John says to his picture window. “You lucked out with the corner unit.”

“Yeah,” Billy agrees. His throat is dry. “Um, can I get you…anything? A drink?” _Shut up, shut the fuck up, for God’s sake_.

“You got any beer?”

“I...don’t. Sorry.” Billy’s not a big beer drinker, and he’s sure as fuck not offering this guy a glass of wine.

John crosses his arms and narrows his eyes, looking around the room. Billy’s knees feel shaky, and not in the good way. Tommy hasn’t stopped growling, and Billy’s fairly certain one of them is going to pee on the floor soon from anxiety.

“No problem. I’m gonna head out,” John says, eyes pausing to stare at something on the floor. “Huh.” He looks up at Billy again, and his expression is cold. Tommy growls louder.

“I’ll, uh, see you later,” Billy mutters as John walks briskly towards the door.

“Sure,” John says with a cruel sort of grin. “Don’t forget to lock the door.”

He turns the deadbolt the second the door is closed, and fastens the chain as an afterthought. He’s trembling, and he’s pissed at himself for being so scared, but the guy was in his fucking _apartment_. Billy’s wondering how he could’ve found him attractive even for a second, because the more he looks at him, the more he realizes he just looks like a fucking skinhead. Tommy whines at his feet, and Billy reaches down to awkwardly pick him up and cuddle him close. “Good boy,” he whispers.

He kicks the dog bed into the corner between his bed and the window, setting Tommy down on top of it. “There you go. That’s where you’re gonna sleep, buddy.”

Tommy gives him a look like _you’ve got to be shitting me_ , and immediately jumps up on Billy’s bed.

“Aw, come on,” he protests, but then something on the floor catches his eye, and he goes completely cold. It’s a photo, one he’d been thinking about framing but decided against, just a 5x7 snapshot of him and his parents at the 2008 NYC Pride Parade. “Oh, fuck.” This is what John Kessler was staring at. “Oh, _fuck_.”

Well, that settles it. He can never leave his apartment again.

Except – except that he has to, he realizes a few seconds later, because he left his fucking credit card at Petco.

“Fuck my life,” he moans, grabbing his coat. He needs to invest in some pepper spray. Tommy perks up from the place where he’s sprawled on Billy’s bed, and Billy calls, “Hang tight, boy, I’ll be back in a little bit.” _Unless I run into Kessler, in which case, you’ll just have to fend for yourself from now on_.

Tommy flops back down in a clear dismissal. _Well_. At least someone feels at home in Billy’s apartment.

***

When he gets back, not fifteen minutes later, he’s half convinced he’s in the wrong apartment at first. It’s certainly not any place he’s ever seen before.

The first thing he notices is that the dog food bag’s been ripped open and there is kibble covering virtually the entire kitchen. The cord to his water kettle’s been torn off, there are massive chunks taken out of the legs of his bar stools, every couch cushion’s been ripped in half, and his pillows are reduced to piles of feathers scattered around his bed. He hears a horrible grinding sound from the bathroom, and goes to investigate just as Tommy streaks out, a blur of white and green, dragging Billy’s bathrobe behind him and promptly tearing it to shreds before his eyes. Billy slumps to the floor and holds up a sad piece of green terrycloth, covered in slobber. “Oh my god,” he says faintly.

He looks in the bathroom and sees that Tommy has actually managed to eat some of the linoleum. 

“ _Tommy! Bad dog!_ ”

Tommy cocks his head, then pees on the shredded bathrobe.

“Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay. We can…oh fuck.” He should’ve listened to Teddy – _Teddy_. He finds the envelope of papers from the shelter, miraculously untouched by Tommy’s rampage, and dials the number of the shelter. It’s close to dinnertime; hopefully they’re still open.

“Eastern Manhattan Animal Shelter, this is Ted – ”

“Teddy! Thank God,” Billy moans, dragging his fingers through his hair. “It’s, um, Billy Kaplan. I adopted Tommy? Like two hours ago?”

Teddy laughs. “I know who you are, Billy. I recognized your voice. What’s up?”

“Well…” Billy surveys the damage again, feeling even more overwhelmed than before. “I sort of – I had to leave my apartment for like, a second, and I left Tommy alone, and, well, he sort of completely destroyed the place. I’m not exaggerating, it looks like a bomb went off.”

“I know you’re not,” Teddy sighs wearily. “I was afraid something like this would happen. Tommy’s kind of a tenacious little guy.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to see that. Um, I have literally no idea what to do.”

“Take him for a walk, or to the park or something,” Teddy advises in a soothing tone. “Wear him out. He’s just got so much puppy energy, he needs something to do.”

“Okay, and then – ”

“Then you bring him to obedience classes. We’ll work something out with your schedule.”

“Do you think there’s any way we could start, like…soon?” Billy watches as Tommy chews dedicatedly on the corner of his couch.

He swears he can hear Teddy’s smirk through the phone. “Tomorrow soon enough?”

“Oh my God, yes, you’d be a lifesaver,” Billy sighs. “Jesus, I have to leave him here when I go to work tomorrow – ”

“Just bring him here,” Teddy says quickly. “You don’t have a crate?”

“Um.” A _crate_. He’d forgotten those even existed. Some dog owner he was turning out to be.

“Right. Look, just bring him here, and then you can come by for obedience class after work. I promise it’s no big deal; to be honest, I think the rest of the pups kinda miss him.”

“Are you sure?” Billy asks, pinching the bridge of his nose, and he hopes to God Teddy _is_ sure, because otherwise, he is fucked.

“Positive. Go wear him out before he busts the pipes open, and I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Teddy says firmly. “Don’t worry, Billy. You’re not the first dog owner to get in over your head. Tommy’ll be a model citizen by the time we’re done with him.”

Billy very much doubts that, but he thanks Teddy profusely, gets reassured that it’s no trouble at all, and it doesn’t even occur to him until after he hangs up that _he’s seeing Teddy again tomorrow_.

“Fuck,” he says again, this time with a shiver of excitement, and grabs Tommy’s leash, whistling. "Come on, boy! Let's get you tired."

He only hopes Tommy can do to John Kessler what he did to that bathrobe if they run into him on their way out.


	2. Chapter 2

“’Please look after this turtle’,” Teddy reads. “Huh. Well, that’s a new one.”

“Do people do this a lot?” Billy asks, staring down at the terrarium sitting in front of the door. “Just drop their pets off?”

“Unfortunately,” Teddy sighs. “Well, at least this guy came with his own gear. You know, Tommy was left here when he was just a month old, half starved with his feet taped together.” He shakes his head in quiet anger. “Figure the owners couldn’t control him, so that was their solution.”

“Jesus,” Billy mumbles. He reaches down and tucks Tommy against his legs a little tighter, rubbing him behind the ears. Tommy leans in and licks his hand, blissfully oblivious. “So what’s the deal with Paddington turtle?”

Teddy gives him a quizzical look, and Billy mentally kicks himself. “Uh, sorry, nevermind. Little brothers,” he offers as a nonsense explanation. “It’s a book, these people find a stuffed bear with a note that says ‘Please look after this bear’, um, he eats marmalade – ” _stop talking, for the love of God, Billy_ \-   

“Oh yeah! I actually remember that,” Teddy nods. His face becomes a sad sort of grimace. “My mom used to read it to me.”

Billy says, “Oh,” because his mom used to read it to him too, and he doesn’t know why that’s something to be sad about.

“Paddington turtle,” Teddy muses. “Has kind of a nice ring to it. Oh, wait – there’s a nameplate here. Namor.” He raises an eyebrow. “Okay then.”

Billy peers into the terrarium to see the turtle poke his head out of his shell and look peevishly around. “He’s kind of cute, I guess.”

It’s probably his imagination, but he could swear Namor is giving him the stink-eye.

Teddy shrugs and hauls the terrarium up in his arms. Billy’s cheeks heat up as he watches the muscles in Teddy’s shoulders flex, and he almost faceplants when Tommy picks that exact moment to go leaping after a squirrel.

“You okay?” Teddy laughs, kicking the door open for them.

“Good question,” Billy mutters. He lets Tommy off the leash once they’re inside, and Tommy immediately starts running in crazed, uneven circles around the room.

Teddy sets Namor down on the counter and stands next to Billy, grinning. “Still want him?”

Billy makes the mistake of glancing up when he says this, and before he can stop himself, he’s dragging his eyes from the gleam of Teddy’s teeth, past his dimple, over to Teddy’s ear, barely a foot away from him, silver cuffs catching the light and sending it back at him like a physical force, a spark he feels bouncing around under his skin.

Teddy draws in a breath, and Billy forces himself to look away, focusing instead on Tommy, who has misjudged a turn and slammed headfirst into the wall. He frowns. “That’s not good.”

“He does that,” Teddy laughs, and it sounds almost shaky. “That dog has too much damn energy.”

Tommy trots sheepishly over to Billy and rubs up against his leg, as if looking for reassurance. “Aw, it’s okay, boy,” he soothes, crouching down to scratch him briskly on the sides of his neck. “You gotta watch where you’re going.”

Tommy whines softly and buries his nose in the crease of Billy’s knee.

“Well, I take it back. You better still want him, because he’s adopted you,” Teddy says above them, smiling from ear to ear.

“Thought it was the other way around.”

“Everyone does,” he laughs. “But they’re all wrong.”

Billy smiles back, and it’s a few warm seconds before they both clear their throats and he catches sight of the wall clock. “Shit, I have to be at work in fifteen.”

“Oh, dude, take off,” Teddy says, waving his arm at the door. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah,” Billy agrees. He stands and brushes all the Tommy hair off his slacks. “Thanks, again. For doing this. I’m getting a crate delivered today.”

“Please,” Teddy waves again. “Don’t even trip. We’re happy to have him.”

“I’ll be back around six,” Billy says, and waves awkwardly as he hurries out the door to make his train. It’s starting to snow, and he’s not wearing a very thick coat, but he realizes as he descends down the subway platform that he’s sweating.

***

“Who’s the client?” he asks Jesse as they all crowd into the elevator.

“Shield Mutual,” Jesse tells him through a bite of donut. “Insurance.”

He whistles. “They’re pretty major, right?”

Jesse shrugs. “Used to be. They almost went under last year. Supposedly their new CEO is pretty hardcore, so maybe they’ll recover. I don’t know. Collins thinks it’s a risky deal if we throw down with them.”

Billy flips through his memo. “Maria Hill? Why do I know that name?”

“She brought us the Chicago VA back in ’08,” Jesse says. “That was my first major client, actually. You know those Blue Cross flags on the website?”

“Sure,” Billy says, although he has no idea what Jesse’s talking about. Jesse’s his immediate supervisor, a web designer and only a few years older than him, but he has an inflated sense of his own importance. Billy found it off-putting at first, but now, it’s just Jesse.

“I did those,” Jesse says proudly. “Collins gave me a raise after that.”

“Right on,” Billy nods.

“Dude.” Jesse wrinkles his nose as the doors open to their floor. “Why do you smell like a wet dog?”

Billy laughs. “Uh, I actually got a dog? Over the weekend. Name’s Tommy.” He pulls out his phone and shows Jesse the picture he took of Tommy passed out on his bed after their walk last night.

“No shit,” Jesse grins, taking his phone and zooming in on Tommy’s face. “Aw, what a face. Puppy?”

“Yeah, about six months.”

“Freaking adorable,” Jesse says enviously. “You better bring him to the office.”

“Totally,” Billy agrees, although he privately wonders if Tommy will ever be well-behaved enough that he can bring him to work and not worry that he’ll eat the entire break room.

He waves to their Team Leader, Fernando, as they all settle into their seats. Fernando’s a Columbia alum like him, the connection that got him an interview with Marvel in the first place. He’s gay too, practically a pillar of the gay community in New York. He knows literally everyone, many of them intimately, and Billy’s fairly sure the fact that they work together is the only thing stopping Fernando from hitting on him on a daily basis.

“Everyone up to speed?” Fernando asks, looking around. Everyone nods, even though they haven’t a clue what he’s referring to yet. It’s a Monday, and they each had about fifteen memos in their inboxes. “Good. So, we’re in competition with Taylor’s team and Zhi’s team for this account. Obviously we deserve it the most, I mean, Zhi’s already got Hammer Industries, and we all know Taylor’s a dirty cheater.” He grins at Taylor, who sticks her tongue out at him from across the room. Billy likes Taylor a lot.

Jesse raises his hand. “We’re presenting on Wednesday?”

Fernando claps his hands. “Usual schedule applies. This is a mother of a client, guys. All other projects come second.” He stands and smoothes his tie, winking at Billy as he does. “Now, go forth and impress me.” He takes a step towards his office and then pauses. “On second thought, don’t impress me, because Maria Hill does not have my impeccable taste. So, uh, impress an ex-military straight woman. Capice?”

He gets an array of uninspired salutes, and says, “There’s that shining enthusiasm I love to see.” Then he goes into his office and shuts the door. Billy knows he’ll be working himself to the bone until Wednesday, in spite of his carefree attitude.

“Okay.” Jesse picks up a koosh ball and tosses it to Amanda. “Insurance.”

She tosses it to Billy. “Coverage.”

This is a brainstorming strategy they learned at one of Marvel’s employee seminars. He catches the ball and blinks. “Protect.”

Donald says, “Save.”

Jesse says, “Saving the world.”

Billy says, “Superheroes.”

Amanda stops the ball. “Elaborate.”

“Shield coverage protects you, like a superhero,” Jesse chimes in. “Regardless of race, creed, gender, etc. Helping those in need. We could do a lot with this, visually.” He sounds excited.

“Or,” Billy interjects, because he’s just had a thought. “ _We’re_ the superheroes. And Shield insures us, so that…so that we can keep saving the world?”

They all stare at him, and he flushes. “Uh, or not – ”

“Dude,” Amanda says. “That’s really good.”

Billy stretches in his seat, a little uncomfortable. “Really?”

“That’s _really_ good,” Jesse echoes. “Write it up, Kaplan. Sell it.”

“Shit,” Billy muses to himself, leaning back in his chair. He starts writing, and ends up geeking out so hard that he works right through lunch. By the time five o’clock rolls around, he’s starving, but he doesn’t have time to eat a full meal, so he just grabs a Pop-Tart when he runs home to change and hopes it’ll be enough to sustain him for the next couple hours. Being around Teddy definitely increases his metabolism – he thinks it probably counts as cardio. Either that or he’s gonna wind up with high blood pressure, but, he decides as he jogs up the subway stairs, it’s totally worth it.

***

Cap greets him in the yard again when he gets to the shelter, licking his hand and barking to announce his arrival. “Hey, boy,” he grins, scratching him under the chin. He knocks on the front door, but no one answers.

“Where’s Teddy, Cap?” he asks, glancing around. Cap whines and shoves the door open with his nose, trotting inside. Billy follows.

They go through the main room, past the dog kennels, past the rooms where the cats live, into the puppy kennels. Tommy spots him immediately and rushes over, barking and crying and pawing frantically at the door. “Tommy!” Billy laughs as he’s bowled over and covered in dog kisses. “Aw, hey, I missed you too buddy. C’mere.” He cuddles Tommy closer and kisses him on top of the head.

Tommy licks him in one long stripe from his chin to his forehead, then grabs the end of his scarf and runs away with it, strangling him for a brief moment before it pulls free.

“Goddamnit,” he wheezes, clutching at his throat. “Tommy, I swear – ”

“I _told_ you, I’m busy tonight,” a voice echoes from across the room. Billy freezes, but realizes a second later that it’s Teddy, standing somewhere just outside the back door. “Yeah, well, some of us have to work for a living, Greg.”

Billy’s suddenly hyper-aware of how loud his breathing is. He’s pretty sure Teddy doesn’t even know he’s here, or he wouldn’t be having this conversation so audibly.

“Take Liam. He’d probably jump at the chance to be your wingman. I – are you serious?” He sounds irritated now. “Why the fuck would _I_ want to go to a sorority party?”

Billy’s heart leaps at the thought of what _that_ could mean.

“Dude, I’m sorry, but I can’t. Yeah, next time. Uh-huh.” He laughs, and Billy’s probably being presumptuous, but he could swear it sounds almost bitter. “I’m sure you will. Yeah, whatever man, you don’t even need me. Have fun trolling for jailbait.”

There’s silence from outside, and Billy doesn’t move. He hears Teddy scuff his foot in the gravel and say, “ _Ugh_ ,” and then he’s coming back inside, and Billy tries very hard to look like he just walked in.

“Hey, boy!” he says in a rush, jogging towards Tommy and grabbing his scarf. “You…rascal!” He grins at Teddy, who looks slightly alarmed, and says, “Sorry, Cap sort of let me in.” His smile fades when Teddy doesn’t return it for a few seconds.

“Yeah, no, that’s fine, um,” Teddy shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair, and Billy’s fingers twitch in sympathy. “You just got here?”

“Like, barely even a second ago,” Billy lies.

“So you didn’t hear –?”

“Hmm?” Billy’s normally a halfway decent bullshitter, but something about lying to Teddy is making his face go all splotchy. It’s probably best to avoid actual words.

“Nothing,” Teddy says, looking relieved. _There’s_ that smile. A pleasant sort of buzzing fills Billy’s stomach, and he looks down at Tommy again to get his bearings. 

At the moment, his dog is wrestling with a chew toy; it looks like it used to be some kind of duck, but he’s amputated the head and wings, so it’s hard to say exactly. Teddy follows his line of sight and laughs. “Yeah, he does that.”

“He did that to my apartment,” Billy says dryly.

“Well,” Teddy says after a moment, “that’s why you’re here, right?”

He looks at Teddy’s eyes, blue, sparkling, with an edge of something he can’t identify without staring too long, and says, “Yeah. That’s why.”

“Right.” Teddy rubs his hands together and then sticks two fingers in his mouth, whistling sharply and shrilly. Billy jumps a little at the sound, and all the puppies start barking.

“Come on, guys!” Teddy calls, tapping his hand against his pocket, where a rustling sound makes Billy suspect he’s got treats inside. “Class is in session.”

The puppies all rush together in a sort of chaotic pile, Tommy at the top, stepping on Eli and Jonas’s heads. Eli snarls and bites his ankle, causing Kate to yip and bite Eli’s ear. In a span of three seconds, they’re all biting each other, and Cassie is tackling the three of them to the ground, enormous paw smothering Tommy’s face, and Jonas is just watching, seated neatly on the floor, tail wagging like he’s not entirely sure what’s happening.

“Uh, like I said,” Teddy grins sheepishly. “They’re all works in progress. Cassie! Get off of him!”

Cassie climbs off Tommy with a guilty look on her face, but gives him one last, fierce bark, as if warning him. He waits until her back is turned and then sticks his entire face between her hind legs.

She kicks him squarely in the eye.

“Hey, hey,” Billy laughs as Tommy yelps and hides behind his leg, eyes gazing up at him woundedly. “You kinda had that coming, buddy. Gotta ask first.” He ruffles Tommy behind the ears and winks at Cassie, who barks and walks over to nuzzle Jonas under his chin. “Aw, is that your boyfriend, little girl?”

Teddy chuckles. “They’re not Facebook official, but I’ve got my suspicions.” He sighs and put his hands on his hips. “And then there’s these two,” he nods at Kate and Eli. She’s somehow managed to pin him, despite being about half his size, and is standing over him, barking and easily dodging all his attempted snaps.

“That’s kind of impressive,” he admits. “Maybe she should be one of those Special Forces dogs. Taking down terrorists and stuff.”

“No kidding,” Teddy laughs. “The spaniel that puts Homeland Security to shame. I’ll pitch it to Luke and Jess; they’ll get a kick out of that one.”

“How did you meet them?” Billy asks, helping him separate Eli and Kate.

Teddy’s face pinches slightly and he says, “Ah, it’s kind of a long story. They’re cool, though. Helped me out a lot when I needed it.”

“I don’t mind long stories,” Billy blurts out. Teddy looks startled, and he wishes immediately he could take the words back. _Too strong. Dial it back, Kaplan_.

But then Teddy gives him a warm smile, almost shy, and his heart thuds unevenly in his chest. “Okay. Well, um, maybe after. Let’s see if we can get anything productive done with these maniacs.”

Billy gestures to him with both hands and says, “Lead the way, Cesar Millan,” and Teddy rolls his eyes, and they spend the next forty-five minutes teaching Tommy and Cassie to sit and lie down, with Jonas as the example dog. Kate and Eli howl at each other from their separate kennels for the first fifteen minutes before suddenly and simultaneously succumbing to deep puppy slumber. Tommy’s starting to tire too, unwilling to get back up after Billy has him lie down for the hundredth time, when Teddy says, “Want to go for a walk?”

Billy looks at the three puppies, all sprawled on the ground and looking profoundly uninterested in walking anywhere. “Uh.”

“I don’t mean these guys,” he clarifies. “There’s one other puppy – you haven’t met him yet. We keep him separate. I usually walk him around this time; that’s why I asked. We don’t have to, I mean, if you don’t – ”

“No, yeah, that sounds good,” Billy says quickly, and he’s intrigued by this previously unknown puppy, but also, he’s really not ready to leave. His stomach is growling and he knows he’ll sleep like a log after this long-ass day, but the thought of spending more time with Teddy could probably sustain him all night.

“Cool.” Teddy motions for him to follow and they go outside the puppy kennels, around the corner to a separate run, concealed behind a tarp. A lanky German shepherd, not much older than Tommy, leaps up with his front paws against the chain link gate, whining and panting, overlarge ears straining towards the two of them like attuned satellites.

“Hey, Nate,” Teddy says softly, slipping a collar with a loop of chain over his head. “Ready for our evening constitutional?”

Nate licks his face happily and struts out, shaking himself from head to toe, then stops and bristles a little at the sight of Billy.

Billy freezes, nervous. “Is he friendly?” he asks with trepidation.

“He won’t bite,” Teddy says, but he doesn’t sound totally sure. “He shouldn’t. He’s fine with most people, now. Try holding out your hand. I’ve got him, don’t worry.”

Billy swallows and tentatively extends his fingers for Nate to sniff. A warm tongue slides over his palm, and then Nate’s nuzzling into his hand, tucking his ears back and making a muffled, pained sound in the back of his throat. It tugs at Billy’s heartstrings, and he kneels down to bury his hands in the soft fur around Nate’s neck. “Good boy,” he whispers.

“He really is,” Teddy says, sounding a little sad. “He’s had a tough time of it is all.”

They set off walking, and Billy notices that Nate isn’t pulling eagerly at the end of his leash like the rest of the puppies do. If anything, he seems skittish, staying close to Teddy’s side, spooking when a plastic bag somersaults across their path.

“What happened to him?” Billy asks.

The corners of Teddy’s mouth turn down unhappily. “Nate used to be our example dog in training class. So smart, and he got along with everyone. Just the happiest little guy.” He laughs without humor. “’Heel’ was the one command he never quite mastered. I got this collar for him because he used to drag me halfway around the block every time he saw a squirrel, I swear.”

Billy doesn’t say anything, just watches Teddy’s shoulders hunch in a defeated sort of stance, and Nate’s tail tucked between his legs as he slinks along in Teddy’s shadow.

“He got adopted,” Teddy says finally. “Actually, by a friend of a friend. My buddy swore up and down he was just a nice guy looking for a dog, but.” He swallows, and his voice becomes even bitterer. “Turns out, not the case. They were running a fighting ring.”

“Jesus,” Billy mutters, horrified.

“They got busted after they’d had him for a few weeks, so he wasn’t there too long, but they must’ve used him a lot, because the state he was in when he came back…” Teddy shakes his head, as if trying to clear the images there. “Luke knows a lot of cops in the area; he’s really into rehabbing fighting dogs. Arranged to have Nate brought back to us. This was like, not even a month ago.”

“Do you think – ” Billy pauses, because the words don’t sound right, but he says them anyways, “ – do you think he’ll get better?” He knows fighting dogs can be rehabbed, lord knows he’s watched enough _Dog Whisperer_ marathons to vouch for that, but he also knows that a lot of the time, they never really recover.

“I don’t know,” Teddy says honestly, and he looks so profoundly miserable that Billy is seized by the urge to grab him, hold him, soothe him, anything to make that broken look on his face go away. “I just – it was my _fault_ , you know? I _let_ those people take him. I can’t give up on him now.”

“Teddy, that’s crazy. Of course it’s not your fault.” Billy reaches out without meaning to and catches himself a second before his hand is on Teddy’s shoulder. He draws it slowly back. _Stop, stop, stop_ , he chants to himself. “You couldn’t have known.”

Teddy huffs out a deep sigh and hunches over further, the movement making him look smaller than Billy would’ve believed possible. “Man, I wish that were true.”

They walk in silence for a few moments, and then Billy says, “Well, you’re doing right by him now. That’s what matters.”

Teddy meets his eyes, and Billy feels like he’s seeing something he’s not meant to, like Teddy’s pulled back a curtain to reveal a sliver of something he’d normally keep hidden away. It’s intoxicating and it catches him completely off guard, which is why about three seconds later, he trips over his own feet and almost goes flying into a patch of filthy snow piled up around a garbage can.

He’s saved by Teddy’s hand fisted in the back of his coat, and Billy wonders for a moment why Teddy gets to have superhero looks _and_ reflexes, because that’s not fair, and it’s making Billy feel more than a little like a damsel in distress, which he most _certainly_ is not – independent, taxpaying adult, yes; damsel, no.

“You need some training too,” Teddy teases, and Billy’s brain-to-mouth filter mercifully kicks in before he can heartily consent to whatever kinky shit Teddy is definitely _not_ referring to. Teddy really needs to stop touching him so he can regain his brain function. Nate barks once, and he lets go, but his hand lingers on Billy’s back a couple more seconds, heat searing through all Billy’s layers to burn his skin and everything under it.

“I totally had that under control,” Billy protests, but his voice is too breathy, eyes are too bright, he can feel it.

“Oh, I’m sure,” Teddy laughs in a low rumble, and it’s a miracle Billy doesn’t wipe out right there.

They walk in companionable silence back around the block to the shelter, and their jacket sleeves brush together seven times. Billy hates himself for counting. Teddy holds the gate open for him, and Nate actually bounds through, clearly happy to be home, rubbing up against Billy’s thigh and making a contented noise.

Teddy cocks his head and drums his fingers against the gate as he latches it. “Hey, uh, would you be willing to help me with something?”

“Any – yeah, I mean,” Billy stammers, trying and mostly failing to stop himself from sounding like an idiot. “Sure.”

If Teddy notices his struggle, he’s kind enough not to acknowledge it. “I want to try and take Nate to see the other puppies,” he says slowly. “I think – well, I’ve been wanting to for a while, I think he might be ready. And they’re all tired, so it’s probably the best time for it.”

Billy shrugs. “All right. Let’s do it.”

It starts off well enough.

Cassie’s the happiest to see Nate. She bounds up from where she’s been collapsed in an undignified heap and they sniff each other extensively before nuzzling and nipping and playing. Kate and Eli are next to greet him, somewhat more cautiously, but happy all the same. Tommy creeps over and actually tackles him, which has Teddy ready to move, except Nate simply shakes him off and goes back to playing with Cassie, leaving Tommy looking a bit put out on the sidelines.

Teddy breathes a sigh of relief and says, “Well, this is going way better than I’d hoped,” and that turns out to be the worst possible thing to say, because then Cassie looks up and barks, and Jonas trots over to say hello, and all the warning they get is a half-second of bristling before Nate goes completely ape-shit and attacks him.

Jonas yelps in pain as Nate buries his teeth in his throat, and Billy doesn’t know how Teddy gets there so fast or inserts himself into the situation so fearlessly, but he yells, “NO!” and grabs Nate around the muzzle, unclamping his jaws from Jonas’s neck and snapping his leash back on in one fluid motion. Billy rushes to Jonas’s side and sees that he’s bleeding, but it doesn’t look serious, and Nate thrashes in Teddy’s arms, howling and snapping, spit flecked with blood flying from his mouth. Billy can’t believe he’s the same happy dog from five seconds ago.

“I’ll be right back,” Teddy calls over his shoulder, running from the room. Jonas is standing up and shaking himself, whining in a pathetic, confused sort of way, and Tommy and Kate are huddled in the back of the room, frightened and trembling. Eli looks confused, and Cassie, for her part, crawls on her belly to the back door that Teddy just ran out of and cries.

“Shit,” Billy says to himself, rubbing his thumb over the broken skin on Jonas’s neck. There’s hardly any blood there now; it’s mostly matted in his fur. “Poor guy.” He keeps petting him, whispering praise, and eventually Jonas turns away to slink towards Cassie, lying down next to her and pressing his nose against the door. Their bony shoulders create matching pictures of puppy sadness, and Billy’s heart aches.

“Tommy, buddy, it’s okay,” he calls to his dog reassuringly, holding his arm out. “C’mere. It’s okay.”

Tommy hesitates for a moment and then rushes forward, throwing himself in Billy’s lap and shoving his nose into it’s preferred place in the crease of Billy’s knee. “Shh,” Billy murmurs, stroking his back and the soft flap of his ears. “You don’t have to be scared; he’s gone. He’s not gonna get you.”

Tommy whimpers again, and then Teddy walks back in, stepping carefully over Jonas and Cassie, looking grim as he examines Jonas’s neck. “Fuck,” he groans. “Aw, Jonas, man, I’m so sorry. _Fuck_.” He slides a hand wearily down the side of his face. “So, um, if you think I’m completely unfit to take care of Tommy now, I’ll totally understand.”

Billy blinks. “ _What_? Are you serious? Teddy, that was – that was _not_ your fault, and I mean, you handled it perfectly, I just stood here – _no_ , okay, there’s no one I’d want watching Tommy more than you. Jesus. Shut up, seriously.”

Teddy doesn’t reply, but he gives a hesitant smile, and Billy notices a slight flush on the sides of his neck, which pleases him a lot more than he’d like to admit. They look at each other, and then Teddy turns back to Jonas and pulls out a tube of antiseptic ointment, and Billy's stomach picks that moment to growl so loud it echoes around all the kennels and makes Eli jump upright and growl back.

There’s a tense few seconds of silence, and then Teddy busts up laughing. “Holy shit,” he grins, looking pointedly at Billy's stomach. “You okay?”

Billy wants to sink through the floor. “Um, I guess I’m hungry?” No need for a question mark, really, he’s actually starting to feel faint from hunger. It’s almost eight o’clock and he hasn’t eaten anything but a Pop-Tart since breakfast. It’s a miracle he’s even functioning.

“You guess,” Teddy repeats, shaking his head and resuming applying antiseptic to Jonas’s neck. “Honestly, I’m kinda starving. You want to grab a bite?”

Billy doesn’t know what he’s more desperate for: food, or food with _Teddy_. “Yeah, sure,” he says, and he thinks he deserves a goddamn Academy Award for Best Actor in the category of Playing It Cool.

“What do you feel like?”

Billy shrugs. “Whatever’s good. I don’t know this area super well yet, full disclosure. You’d probably know where to go more than I would.” He’s about ready to eat out of a fucking garbage can, so he hopes Teddy knows someplace close.

“Korean taco truck? It’s like, four blocks, not even.”

It’s all Billy can do to stop a declaration of undying love from passing through his lips.

***

“How?” he says again, mouth full of ginger chicken. “Who even thought of this?”

Teddy looks up from his kimchi rice bowl and smiles knowingly. “Right?”

“I’ve never tasted anything so delicious. In my whole life.”

“Zero things,” Teddy deadpans back, nodding seriously. “Before now, it was all gray and tasteless.”

“I don’t think I was even truly living before this moment,” he declares through another bite. “Oh my god.” A shred of chicken slips through his fingers and Tommy’s on it before it even hits the ground. “That’s right, beg at my feet, peasant.”

Teddy chokes and covers his mouth with his wrist. “Glad you like it.”

“Don’t be,” Billy tells him. “I’m gonna be here every fucking day now. I’ll have gained like fifty pounds by next week.”

“Of course,” Teddy agrees. “All I ask is that you leave some crumbs for me.”

“I wonder if anyone at my work knows about this place,” he wonders out loud. “My supervisor is a total obnoxious foodie; I bet he’d love it.”

“I miss having co-workers,” Teddy says glumly.

“I never thought I’d _like_ having co-workers,” Billy says honestly. “All my past jobs must’ve been cursed; I’ve pretty much hated every single person I’ve ever had to work with until this job.”

“I hear you,” Teddy says sympathetically. “I used to work at a kid’s gym at this fucking country club on the Upper East Side – almost killed myself on a daily basis. Worst. Job. Ever.”

Billy wrinkles his nose. “Ew. Packed with Upper East Side parents, too.”

“Nannies,” Teddy corrects him, rolling his eyes. “They were the easiest part. Nah, it was like a fucking Chuck E. Cheese’s for rich people. Didn’t pay for shit, either.”

“I worked in this coffeeshop up in Harlem all through college,” Billy says. “Thought it’d be like, Felicity or something, I don’t know.” _That’s_ probably a pretty gay thing to say, now that he thinks about it, but Teddy grins and nods like he knows exactly what he’s talking about. “No one worked there longer than like, six months except for me. I’m pretty sure the owner was Satan himself.”

Teddy looks at him thoughtfully. “So, you went to…Columbia?”

“Yep. Stayed close to home,” he says, and he wonders too late if that makes him sound like some kind of man-child. 

“Damn,” Teddy says, and he sounds impressed. “Good school. I grew up not too far from there.”

There’s a weight to his words that Billy’s noticed comes out whenever he talks about his childhood, or his past, and he’s practically frothing with curiosity about it, but he doesn’t want to press. “Where did you go?” he asks, and then realizes that is _completely_ the wrong thing to say, “ – I mean, did you do the, uh, college thing?” 

Awesome. _Very_ smooth.

Teddy swallows and pokes at his empty bowl with his chopsticks. “I did a few quarters at Stony Brook, over on Long Island.” He clears his throat. “But, uh, my mom died, and I had to drop out.”

“Oh,” Billy says, shocked. God, he never expected _that_. “I’m really sorry, wow. That must’ve been awful.” _Thank you, Captain Obvious. Just stop talking forever_.

“No, it’s,” Teddy starts, and then he pauses. “Well, it’s not okay. But she was sick, and she’d been sick for a while. I shouldn’t’ve gone to school in the first place.” He shakes his head and laughs to himself a little, sadly. “She practically shoved me out the door.”

There’s a lump in Billy’s throat that he can’t seem to swallow. “Was she married? I mean, um.” He can’t bring himself to ask the question, _do you have anyone?_

“Nope,” Teddy says dully. “Just me and her. Dad died in the Gulf War. I don’t really remember him. Think I was two the last time I saw him.”

“God, Teddy, I’m – I’m really sorry for bringing it up.”

Teddy sits back on their bench and looks at his hands. Billy notices that his eyes look a little misty, and he clenches his hands into fists on his knees, fighting the urge to reach over and do… _something_. “I normally don’t talk about it,” he admits. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this stuff. Sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry,” Billy tells him, and again he has to physically restrain himself from touching Teddy, because he wants to so, _so_ much. “I – I’m glad you felt like you could tell me.”

“Yeah, well, that’s my depressing-ass life story,” Teddy sighs. “Part of it, anyways. Hope I didn’t ruin your taco truck experience.”

“Far from it,” Billy says quietly, and Teddy looks at him again, and his heart beats so loudly he’s certain the whole street can hear it.

“You said you live around here?” Teddy asks, changing the subject. He doesn’t look away from Billy, and Billy’s heart hammers harder at the definitely-not-there implication behind those words.

“Like, not even two blocks,” he replies hoarsely. He coughs to clear his throat. Teddy’s still looking at him. He’s getting hot all over.

After what feels like an eternity, Teddy drags his eyes to the direction that Billy just nodded in. “Cool,” he says. “I’ll walk you guys back.” He crumples the little paper basket his rice bowl came in and tosses it gracefully into the garbage.

Billy says, “Okay,” and wonders how many people his age have died of heart attacks, because that’s feeling more and more like a distinct possibility.

Tommy trots happily between them as they walk, little puffs of steam coming out of his nose and making Billy smile like an idiot for reasons he’s not quite clear on. He loves this stupid dog, despite the fact that it’s only been two days, despite everything he’s _done_ in those two days. It’s like Tommy’s a part of him, as cheesy as it sounds. They just fit together.

“This is me,” he nods to the stoop when they’re outside his building. “That’s actually my window up there in the corner,” he points. “There used to be a curtain, but someone who shall remain nameless ate it.”

Teddy laughs. “I wonder who _that_ could be?” He squats down and rubs Tommy affectionately behind the ears. “Are you a menace? Huh?”

“He’s just really passionate about interior decorating,” Billy says.

“ _Right_ ,” Teddy grins. “The Jackson Pollock of home design.”

“Exactly! See, you get it.”

Teddy straightens suddenly and frowns at something over his shoulder. Then Tommy growls, and Billy almost doesn’t need to turn around to know that John Kessler is coming out the door, probably off to the nearest KKK meeting or whatever. He doesn’t say anything, just gives Billy a frosty look and stalks off, but it leaves Billy unsettled all the same.

“What’s his deal?” Teddy asks, watching him disappear down the street.

“Um,” Billy rubs the back of his neck. “He doesn’t like me.”

“What the fuck? Didn’t you move in, like, a second ago?”

“It’s a long story,” Billy says, and then he stops himself, because _fuck_ this, he didn’t spend an agonizing two years of high school as the only “out” kid in his class to shut himself back in the closet in his twenties. “Actually it’s not. He hates gay people. He thinks I’m gonna give him cooties, or something.”

He waits for Teddy’s reaction, waits for the step back, or the dark look, but Teddy just snorts. “Didn’t know there were any of those left in the city. What a douchebag.” Then he looks back at Billy, and there’s a crease in his eyebrows, almost like he’s worried. “He doesn’t try to mess with you, does he?”

Billy shrugs. “He hasn’t yet. I don’t think he wants anything to do with me. Which, you know, is fine by me.”

Teddy exhales, rough, and Billy realizes his hands are clenched into fists. _Whoa_. “If he ever – Billy, if he does anything, I want you to tell me.”

Billy is dying, _dying_ to know what that means. He struggles with words for a minute and then says, “It’s fine, believe me, it’s nothing I can’t handle,” which is a stupid fucking thing to say, because he’s never particularly _handled_ it before, and there’s no reason to believe now should be any different.

But then Teddy reaches out and grasps his elbow gently, and he’s tugged forward a step, and he forgets how to breathe.

“I mean it,” Teddy says softly, eyes searching his.

Tommy barks.

It’s probably for the best, because Teddy immediately lets go of him and steps back, and there’s no way he’s intending for any of this to come off the way Billy’s interpreting it, but that horrible, small, hopeful part of his brain keeps chanting _what if, what if_ , and he can’t help but want to strangle Tommy a little bit. In a loving way.

“Um,” Billy says, “Do you want to come up?”

Teddy glances up at the dark window of his apartment and looks possibly wistful for a second, which has _got_ to be Billy’s imagination, and he shakes his head. “I should get back,” he says. “Check on Jonas and stuff. Another time.”

Billy says, “Okay, for sure, see you later,” and then he doesn’t remember entering the building or going up in the elevator or even arriving in his disaster warzone of an apartment, because those two words are echoing around his mind like the best song he’s ever heard, a prayer and a promise. _Another time_.

Tommy has a fit of hyperactivity around ten thirty and eats an entire tennis ball before falling asleep in a heap at the foot of Billy’s bed. Billy isn’t even fazed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long! I've been crazy with work, plus the holidays and all, but I have some time off this week, so the next chapter should go up faster. thanks for reading!
> 
> also reed in this is loosely based on [this drawing](http://yazzdonut.tumblr.com/post/28533708325) by [yazz](http://yazzdonut.tumblr.com).

Billy can feel everyone’s eyes on him the moment he walks into the office. “I know, I know,” he says tiredly. “Look, it’s just cat scratches, it’s not a sex thing or whatever. Let’s all just go about our lives.”

Needless to say, no one is satisfied with that explanation.

“What the hell kind of cat?” Amanda asks curiously, peering closely at the thin red lines that stretch from his sideburns to his chin. The overnight stubble he opted not to shave that morning hides the worst of it, but he knows he looks a little bit like someone came after his face with a cheese grater. “Like, a bobcat?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” he replies dryly. “No, just a…a really determined, protective, psychotic housecat. Orange, if you wanted to know.”

She makes a face at him and stands up again. “That’s crazy. What’d you do to piss it off?”

He takes a deep breath and tries to explain. In truth, he’s still not sure he knows why exactly Shatterstar attacked him. Teddy was a little baffled by the whole thing too. All he knows is that one minute he was holding a beefy Rottweiler named Rictor still so Teddy could give him an antibiotics shot, because he’d just had knee surgery, and then a fluffy orange tabby cat had come out of absolutely no where and latched onto his face in its best alien facehugger impression, and that it’d dug its claws in and he’d screamed like a girl while Teddy pulled it off.

Amanda doesn’t say anything when he’s finished his lame explanation, just shakes her thick black curls and walks away. Donald says, “Weird name for a cat,” and Jesse’s visibly biting the inside of his cheek to keep from cracking up.

“He’s got like, a mark around his eye – it kind of looks like a – okay, no one cares,” Billy sighs. “Fine. _Fine_. Laugh at my pain, go ahead.”

From a few desks away, Taylor says, “So you don’t know why the cat attacked you?”

“No, like I said – ”

“Would you say you’re a little _fuzzy_ on the details?”

Everyone laughs. Of course they do.

It’s been a week since they heard the news that Billy’s superhero pitch won them the Shield Mutual account, and they’ve been in a state of more-or-less constant celebration, with Billy being officially welcomed as a contributing member of the team. Amanda, with her usual measure of tact, had said, “We all thought Fernando just hired you because you were a cute little gay man at first. Not now! But initially,” and he hadn’t known what to say to that, so he’d thanked her, which in retrospect, was probably not the correct reaction. But then she’d nominated him for a pretty great assignment, so he figured that was her way of demonstrating faith in him.

After three hours of brainstorming, he’s got a decent block of text to work with, but none of it’s particularly inspired. “How’s the banner coming?” he asks Jesse, peering over the barrier between their desks.

Jesse finishes typing something and then leans back with his hands clasped behind his head. He’s lost some weight, Billy notices, and makes a note to say something encouraging when the moment is right. “Not bad. I’ve been scrapping fonts all morning. You know they were using _Papyrus_ for the header?” He shudders.

“Gross.”

“Yeah, how’s it going on your end?”

He shrugs. “High on quantity, low on quality.”

Jesse nods wisely. “Sounds like a Friday.”

“Someone needs a muse?” Fernando asks, appearing at the side of his desk. 

“Or something,” Billy says, gesturing towards his computer. “I don’t know, tell me what you think.”

“First things first.” Fernando’s tone is somewhat accusatory, but he’s smiling. “Who was that _gorgeous_ creature you were with last night at The Garage?” He places a hand on his hip and raises a knowing eyebrow. “You two looked awfully cozy.”

“I – we – you – _what_?” Billy splutters. He knows his face is bright red; it probably highlights his cat scratches nicely. He was with Teddy last night, at an old arcade on 52nd called The Garage where you can buy pitchers of beer with tokens on Wednesday and Thursday nights. They’ve been hanging out a lot – well, between the obedience classes and Billy’s decision to start boarding Tommy three days a week at the shelter, when it became too depressing to leave him in a crate all day, Teddy’s quickly become a fixture in his life. He’s not exactly broken up about it, but he knows it’s probably not the best idea for his emotional well-being, considering how quickly he’s developing feelings for Teddy. Feelings that are definitely _not_ reciprocated.

Jesse frowns at him. “You had a date last night?”

“I didn’t – it wasn’t a _date_ ,” Billy says emphatically. “We’re just friends, I don’t even think – I don’t know if he’s even gay, Jesus.”

Fernando snorts. “Honey, believe me. I know the look, and if he’s not yet, he’s willing to be. Couldn’t take his eyes off _you_ , that’s for sure.”

Billy’s stomach turns inside out, but he knows Fernando, and he knows when he’s just trying to stir up drama. “No way,” he says firmly. “Teddy – I mean, we’re friends, he’s my dog’s trainer, actually. He’s not – we’re not dating.”

“Sleeping with the dog trainer? That’s very Hamptons of you,” Fernando teases.

“Oh my _God_ – ”

“What the hell were _you_ doing at an arcade, ‘Nando?” Taylor asks. “You’re like, thirty-five.”

Fernando draws himself up in mock indignation, straightening his bow tie. “How dare you,” he says in the feigned-outrage tone Billy only ever hears him use with Taylor. “I am thirty- _four_ , and if you must know, I was there with a younger man. Almost as cute as Billy’s new friend.” He winks at Billy, and Billy experiences a brief urge to just tip forward and let his head slam on the desk.

Amanda raises her hand and calls, “Hey, Fernando? Can you come sign off on this draft?”

“Teddy, right?” Jesse says in a low voice, leaning forward once Fernando is out of earshot. “That’s his name? Your dog’s trainer, I mean?”

“Uh, yeah.” Billy blushes again.

“So he’s cute?”

“Come on, Jesse,” Billy groans. “Not you too.”

Jesse just looks at him expectantly, and he really does try, Billy thinks, for a square-as-a-box straight guy, he tries so damn hard.

“Yeah, okay,” he relents. “He’s cute. It doesn’t matter, though, it’s not gonna be a thing. It’s _not_ ,” he says sternly to Jesse’s smirk. “Didn’t you hear Fernando? He’s ‘ _gorgeous_ ’. There’s no way.”

Jesse rolls his eyes. “Whatever, Billy, you’re…you know, good looking, and uh, stuff. Right? I mean you’re not, like…bad to look at. If I was – if _I_ was gay, or whatever, I’d probably, uh…” he trails off, looking at his shoes. “Yeah, I shouldn’t have started that sentence.”

Billy bats his eyelashes. “No, please go on.”

“I’m serious, though. You should’ve heard Fernando when we first hired you. He went around telling everyone he hoped you crashed and burned just so you’d get fired and he could sleep with you.”

“That’s very comforting, thank you.”

“You _know_ what I mean. Jeez. Try to give a guy a compliment,” he laughs.

“I know. I do appreciate it, man. How’s Thea doing?” 

A goofy grin spreads across Jesse’s face when Billy mentions his wife. “She’s great, really,” he says in an almost reverent tone. “She’s fucking huge, it’s unreal. This is her last week of work.”

Amanda perks up. “Ooh, Thea? When’s she due?” 

“Valentine’s Day.”

“That is _so_ cute,” she sighs.

Jesse bites his lip and smiles at his hands. “I can’t believe I’m gonna be a dad.”

“Okay, guys,” Fernando says, walking back over to Billy’s desk and placing a tanned palm on his shoulder. “I know it’s Friday, but let’s all try to at least pretend like we’re working. Sorry, I know, I’m a slave driver.” He turns to face Billy’s computer. “Let’s see what you’ve got here, Kaplan.”

Billy leans back, embarrassed. “It’s for the Good Faith policy, the one where they let you delay your bill for a month? I’ve been sort of playing around with like, superheroes, and thinking about why they’d be late on a payment….um, anyways, I haven’t struck gold yet, I don’t think – ”

Fernando points to a small cluster of words in the brainstorming cloud he constructed. “What’s ‘other tights’?”

“Oh,” Billy says, “That was sort of – the idea is – hold on, let me find it.” He digs through his notes, pleased that Fernando zeroed in on the one idea he thought maybe had potential. He clears his throat. “’Left your bill in your other tights? No problem! Shield’s Good Faith policy lets you defer your payment for up to a month. Shield Mutual: dedicated to helping _you_ save the world.’”

Fernando claps him on the shoulder. “That’s what I’m talking about! I love it. Work off that. We’ll pitch it to Hill next week.” He grins. “If she likes it, you just might be looking at a raise.”

Jesse beams at him as Fernando walks away. “My little intern’s all grown up!”

“Shut up,” Billy mutters, biting down on the smile that’s trying to take over his face. “She might hate it.”

“Well, with _that_ attitude,” Jesse says sarcastically, and laughs when Billy glares at him.

He actually gets a decent amount of work done after that, and Fernando ends up letting them all leave half an hour early. “It’s a gorgeous day,” he calls as they pack up their things. “Go enjoy it with the people you love. Or the people who train your dogs, whichever,” he adds, smirking at Billy.

Billy’s reasonably sure he wouldn’t get fired for flipping Fernando off, but he restrains himself from doing so, just in case.

***

Teddy’s a little frazzled when he gets to the shelter. “You’re early,” he blurts out, hair twisted around crazily, forearms looking rather like Billy’s face as he hunches over a stack of cat carriers.

Billy says, “Um…sorry?” and Teddy groans and shakes his head.

“No, _I’m_ sorry, I didn’t mean – you’re welcome anytime, obviously. I just – I’m in the middle of something, you don’t mind waiting for a minute, do you?” He bites his lip, and Billy’s hands flex at his sides. It’s a habit he’s formed out of constantly wanting to touch Teddy, but not being able to.

When he’s able to tear his eyes off Teddy’s mouth and look around, he sees that the whole central room is a little out of sorts, and there’s a lot more cat stuff out than he’s used to seeing. “What’s going on?”

Teddy sighs and rubs the back of his neck, wincing slightly. Billy’s hands flex again. “Skylight over one of the cat rooms is leaking; I have to move them to a different room until I can fix it.”

“Shit,” Billy says, making a face. “That blows.”

“Yeah, well,” Teddy shrugs, looking down. “It’s my own dumb fault; I’ve been slacking on clearing the snow off it. Damn thing was bound to give eventually.”

Wow, Teddy really does do everything around here. Poor guy. “Here, let me give you a hand,” Billy says, and hushes Teddy when he looks like he’s going to protest. “Seriously, I want to help.”

Teddy laughs dryly. “Hey, if you really want to help, see if you can get Reed off the scratching post. I gave up about an hour ago. He’s uh, the grey tabby in there. Watch the claws.” He nods sympathetically to Billy’s face. “Sorry about that, again, man.”

Billy waves his apology away. “Don’t even. Life’s an adventure.”

“Sure,” Teddy grins. “An _excellent_ adventure?”

“An _exxxxcellent_ adventure,” Billy says, rolling his eyes and hiding a smile. It’s their first inside joke. A little on the nose, but still, it’s _theirs_ …

He’s really got to stop thinking like that. 

There’s a nearly full purple bucket on the damp floor in the cat room when he walks in, and a steady stream of water dripping down from a crack in the window. The room is almost vacated, except for a crumpled-looking paper bag in the corner and the grey tabby Teddy was referring to lounging on the top tier of a moldy-looking scratching post. Reed, evidently.

“Hey, buddy,” he ventures, reaching up to scratch Reed’s tufted cheek. Reed leans into the touch, purring, but keeping his slanted blue eyes trained shrewdly on Billy’s face. “Mind if I pick you up?”

He holds his breath, expecting a fight, but it becomes quickly apparent that picking Reed up isn’t exactly the problem. He’s got the cat around his middle and has managed to get two steps away from the scratching post, and Reed simply isn’t letting go. Billy gives him a couple tugs, to no avail. “Um.” He takes another tentative step, hoping Reed’s little cat arms won’t pop out of their sockets, but all of Reed’s claws are still tight in the brown wool. He’s improbably stretchy, even for a cat. 

“Just let go, man,” Billy says warily, trying in vain to dislodge any of his paws. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He’s about halfway across the room before Reed finally exhausts his freakish elasticity, squirms out of his arms, lands on the floor and glares malevolently upwards. 

“Well, if you’d just let go,” Billy tells him, crossing his arms. Reed flicks his tail in annoyance, and Billy’s ninety-nine percent sure a cat just gave him the finger.

“Hey, there you are!” he hears Teddy say as Reed pads into the main room. “C’mere, weirdo. Thanks, Billy!”

“No problem,” Billy calls back. He looks around the room for anything else to bring out. “Do you need this bag?”

“Oh, don’t – ” Teddy says, but it’s too late, and Billy’s fingers close around the top of the crumpled paper bag at the same time that a calico paw shoots out and sticks him painfully with three sharp claws.

“Aah!” he yells in surprise, jumping backwards. “What the –?”

The bag rustles, and he notices that someone has drawn a robot on the front of it with Sharpie. It’s kind of cute, on the outside anyways.

“Shit,” Teddy says behind him. “Did he get you? Oh, man,” he sighs, seeing Billy sucking on his bleeding finger. “Tony, you’re such an asshole,” he grumbles at the bag.

Billy nods to where Tony is still rustling away. “What’s the deal?”

Teddy shrugs. “Cats, dude. Who the fuck even knows. Tony loves that stupid bag; he’ll take your hand off if you try to touch him while he’s in it.” He laughs. “I love them, I swear, but these cats are such a pain in my ass sometimes.”

“I think I’m definitely a dog person,” Billy confirms.

“Is it bad? Let me see,” Teddy says, and then he takes Billy’s hand between big, warm palms, and Billy’s mouth goes completely dry. Teddy drags his fingers over Billy’s, examining where Tony managed to break the skin over his knuckle, smoothing his thumb over the red mark that Billy knows is still damp with spit.

There are literally _no_ thoughts passing through Billy’s mind right now, just a distant roaring like he’s got seashells pressed to both ears, and he might be paralyzed, and he’s not breathing, but that’s okay, because he doesn’t seem to need air anymore. Teddy’s done something, pushed some button that’s turned him into an automaton, and damn if it’s not the best and most exciting thing to happen in his whole stupid life.

He realizes that Teddy’s talking and attempts to restore himself to full consciousness. “Huh?”

Teddy’s still holding his hand when he repeats, “I asked if you wanted some ice.” Billy thinks he sees the quick quirk of a smile, but he doesn’t trust his own eyes to be certain of anything.

“I’m…I’m good,” he manages. Hey, that was almost a sentence. “Thanks. Um.”

Those blue eyes latch onto his once more, and he’s _still_ touching Billy, still resting his thumb on Billy’s knuckle, and Billy feels the inexplicable urge to do something stupid like flail his arms or kick something over. Maybe the bucket of water, maybe he’d slip in the puddle and knock himself out, maybe Teddy’d have to resuscitate him with mouth-to-mouth – 

“Stupid cat,” Teddy says in an exhale, and then he snaps his eyes away from Billy and drops his hand. A fluffy goldendoodle Billy’s forgotten the name of trots into the room and nudges Teddy’s knee, making him jump a little. “Oh! Hey, Pepper,” he grins, reaching down to scratch her behind the ears. “Good timing, girl.”

He drops to one knee and points at the bag, which is now slowly sliding across the floor as Tony does whatever cats do inside paper bags. It involves a lot of frantic moving and thrashing around. “Help us out?”

Pepper lets out a little sigh and then plods purposefully over to Tony’s bag, grips the handle in her teeth, and starts dragging it towards the door. Immediately, Tony’s brown and black spotted paws fly out and bat at her nose, but she pays them no heed, settling for simply looking harassed as she hauls bag and cat into the hall.

Billy must look a little aghast, because Teddy glances over at him and laughs as they make their way out into the central room. “Pepper and Tony came from the same shelter,” he explains. “There’s a lot of history there. Luke and Jess were pretty vague on the details, though.”

Billy raises an eyebrow. “Torrid inter-species romance, maybe?”

Teddy snorts. “Yeah, right. The only romance Tony has is with that stupid bag. And maybe Cap,” he allows. “He does love Cap.”

The golden retriever perks up at hearing his name and barks from his bed in the corner. “Yeah, you’re a good boy,” Teddy tells him, walking over and reaching down to rub his belly. “Everybody loves you, huh buddy?”

Cap whuffs softly and nudges his nose against Teddy’s hand. “See, why can’t Tommy be like that?” Billy asks wistfully.

“Probably because he’s not a geezer like this guy,” Teddy replies, standing up again and rolling his shoulders back in a long stretch. “Cap’s seen some shit, I think. He doesn’t get to be a dog like the rest of these guys.”

Billy makes a face. “Yeah, okay. Fine.”

Next to him, Tony is emerging from the paper bag, looking crabby and rumpled. He hisses at Billy and slinks over to Cap, meowing plaintively until the older dog lifts his head, and then he crawls under his chin and curls up there.

Teddy grins down at them. “There we go. Here, give me the bag. I’ll put it in the new room.”

“Did you draw this?” Billy asks, smoothing the paper to look at the Sharpie robot.

"Uh,” Teddy laughs uncertainly. “Yeah? It was just a bag somebody dropped off with a food donation and I doodled a little on the front. Next thing I know, Tony’s moved in. I dunno,” he shrugs. “It’s dumb. All the other cats have their spots I guess. He likes the bag.”

“I think it’s cool,” Billy says, passing it over to him. “Maybe he’s pretending it’s a robot suit.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure,” Teddy laughs. “He’s like, the Terminator or something.”

“That’s totally it.” He’s ridiculously pleased with himself for making Teddy laugh, and he’s about to say something else when his attention is drawn to Miles, a gangly black kitten that they found together in a nearby alleyway a few days back. He’s made a valiant leap from the top of one scratching post to another, which most of the cats are able to make with hardly any effort, but Miles seems to be missing whatever genetic trait gives _most_ cats their innate depth perception. He misses the mark entirely and barely catches himself on a lower tier before dropping to the floor in an uncoordinated heap.

Billy laughs, and then immediately feels guilty when Miles’s wide yellow eyes tilt upward to gaze at him mournfully. “Aw, I’m sorry little guy,” he says, reaching down to pick him up and give him a quick cuddle. “I didn’t mean to laugh at you.”

“Poor kid can’t catch a break,” Teddy sighs. “I tried putting him with some of the other younger cats, but he’s completely terrified of them. I don’t think anybody knows what to make of him.”

“You need to get adopted,” Billy tells the kitten. “I’d take you home, but I’m pretty sure Tommy would eat you.”

“Probably.” Teddy pushes the taller scratching post towards the new cat room. “He’ll be alright. Just needs to get settled.”

“Here, let me help you,” Billy says quickly, setting Miles down and going to grab the other scratching post. “God, these cats sure have a lot of shit.”

“It’s possible we spoil them a little,” Teddy grins conspiratorially. “Although I’m sure they’d tell you otherwise.”

Those dimples will actually be the death of him, Billy thinks.

An hour or so later, they’re back in the puppy kennel, watching Tommy harass Kate and Eli. Eli’s a bit food-aggressive, which most of the puppies are wary of, but Tommy seems to interpret it as a challenge.

“Does he just like, not know how to read social cues?” Billy asks concernedly as Tommy sneaks up on Eli for the fourth or fifth time, and gets chased halfway around the room as a result.

Teddy frowns. “I’m pretty sure he just likes being chased. Not like Eli can outrun him, honestly.”

“Come on, Tommy, leave him alone,” Billy calls as Eli adopts a protective stance over his food bowl, growling at the empty air and tucking his tail between his legs. Tommy looks over at him and barks, then runs back over to Eli, crouching down and wagging his tail playfully. Eli growls louder.

“Tommy…”

His dog whines and rolls onto his back, legs kicking in Eli’s direction. He jerks upright and twists around, catching sight of his tail, Billy realizes, when he abruptly jumps up and starts whirling in circles trying to catch it. Eli resumes eating, satisfied that Tommy’s attention is finally elsewhere.

Teddy shakes his head, and Billy doesn’t miss the way it makes his hair fall in his eyes. He imagines Teddy’s fingers are his, reaching up and brushing those strands away, ghosting over long eyelashes and warm skin. “Man, I gotta tell you, it’s really nice to have company,” Teddy says, interlacing his fingers and cracking his knuckles. “Ever since Annie quit, it’s been pretty lonely around here. We don’t get many customers coming in this time of year.”

“It’s nice for me, too,” Billy says, feeling his pulse quicken a little at Teddy’s words. “I wish I could hang with these guys all day.” _And you_ , he thinks.

“Job has its perks,” Teddy says quietly, smiling at the floor. Billy’s heart goes to his throat. He thinks maybe Teddy can sense it, or can feel him staring, because he drags his eyes up to meet Billy’s, and it looks like he might say something else – and then Cap starts barking.

Teddy seems to deflate a little, or maybe it’s just Billy’s imagination, and says, “Figures, as soon as I say there’s no customers. I’ll be right back; we’re supposed to be closed now anyways.” He pauses before he goes out the door and turns, a weird sort of expression on his face. “Um, do you have anywhere to be tonight?”

Billy tries to shrug nonchalantly. “Nah, no plans.”

“Want to maybe do something?”

 _Anything. Everything_. “Yeah, that’d be cool,” Billy hears himself say, but his voice sounds very far away, and Teddy’s answering grin doesn’t help bring clarity to the situation.

“Cool. Okay, I’ll just deal with this and then we’ll figure something out.”

Billy watches him leave, all too aware of every muscle crease in his back, the way his jeans hang straight across his hips, the broad line of his shoulders stretching his sweater tight. _Yikes_. This little crush is getting seriously out of hand.

Tommy yelps, and Billy looks over to see that he’s finally caught his tail. He laughs. “What did you think was gonna happen?”

Tommy whines pathetically with his tail between his teeth. A squeak sounds from the other side of the room, and he whips his head around, growling. Billy sees that Jonas has gotten into Tommy’s little kennel area and is poking at something curiously with his paw.

In a flash, Tommy is there, snarling and grabbing whatever has captured Jonas’s interest. “Hey,” Billy says sternly, walking over. “Be nice, Tom – oh my god, _Tommy_.” He grabs the toy out of Tommy’s mouth; a plush squeaky wasp that is definitely _not_ his. “Tommy, did you steal this from Hank?”

Tommy responds by trying to jump up and grab the toy out of Billy’s hand. He barks expectantly, and Billy shakes his head. “Uh-uh, I’m taking this back. Poor Hank’s probably sick over it.” He nudges Tommy affectionately behind the ears. “Little shit. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

He throws a tennis ball for Tommy and then slips out the front door of the puppy kennels to go see Hank. Hank’s kennel is near the front of the dog kennels in the main building, but Teddy’s with a customer, so Billy goes through the back. The overlarge Great Dane has the biggest kennel, but doesn’t use his space for much besides flopping around. He can never seem to get his limbs quite in order to muster up a good run.

“Hank!” Billy grins, unfastening the latch and slipping inside. Hank gives him an utterly forlorn look, eyelids sagging, head lolling woefully on the ground. “Look who I found!” 

He holds out the stuffed wasp, and Hank’s entire demeanor changes. He leaps up in a tangle of legs and knocks Billy to the ground, nuzzling him and licking his face, happy little crying noises echoing from his throat. Billy laughs and tries to shield himself. “Hey, hey, take it easy.” Then Hank flops down on top of him with his wasp in his mouth, elbows going directly into Billy’s kidneys and making him wheeze out all the air in his lungs.

“Hank, buddy,” he squeaks. “Can’t – breathe – oh my god, _move_ ,” he begs, shoving at Hank’s bony chest as hard as he can. It doesn’t accomplish much. Hank rests his chin on his chest and gazes up at him adoringly. “Yeah, okay. Good boy,” he manages to gasp. “Now get _off_ – oh, Jesus,” he moans, clutching at his sides as Hank finally heaves a sigh and rolls off of him.

Once Billy’s on his feet and regained the height advantage, he scratches Hank vigorously around his collar and kisses the top of his head. “You glad you got your toy back?” he grins. Hank’s bizarrely attached to the little stuffed wasp; he even insists on carrying it in his mouth on walks. All the other toys in his kennel remain untouched.

He forgets he came in through the back and almost walks out into the main room, but stops just before he reaches the doorway, hearing an unfamiliar voice and Teddy’s laughter.

“ – I swear, bro, the shit this chick was into, I’m lucky I got out with both my balls, I’m fucking serious. _Never_ again.”

Okay, so, not a customer. A young guy, with a rough, attractive-sounding voice. Billy’s stomach twists unpleasantly, and he hates himself for having that reaction.

“Man, I would not even fuck with that,” Teddy replies, laughter in his voice. It doesn’t sound entirely genuine, but that could also be wishful thinking on Billy’s part. “That’s what you get for picking up one of Ronnie’s friends.”

“I wouldn’t’ve had to if I’d had my boy with me,” the other guy says, and now Billy’s stomach is _really_ in knots. “C’mon, man, what’s the deal? Liam’s the shittiest wingman ever, I need the Tedmeister.”

God, this guy sounds like a douche.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Teddy sighs. “It’s been – it’s been crazy here, and honestly Greg, I dunno if I’m into the whole bar scene anymore…it’s kinda tired, you know?”

This must be the guy he was talking to on the phone the other week. Billy’s intensely curious to see what he looks like, but he keeps out of sight. He’ll just listen for a little bit longer.

Greg snorts. “Uh, what?”

“You know…” Teddy’s voice is low; he sounds uncertain. 

“I really don’t. Shut the fuck up, what are you, going full queerbot on me?”

“I’m not – ”

“Dude, look around you.” Greg’s voice has gone from light and jovial to harsh and cruel-sounding, and Billy’s fingers bite into his palms as he listens, hands fisting at his sides. “All your friends are _dogs_. You can’t fucking afford to ditch out on me.” There’s a cold silence, and then he continues, “All the other guys said I shouldn’t even bother with you, you know. I’m the _only_ one who has your back. Don’t you try to fuck me over.”

“I’m not trying to fuck you over,” Teddy says, and Billy thinks he’s heard enough. He doesn’t want Teddy to cave, not to this asshole. He opens and closes Hank’s door again loudly and then walks out, rubbing his hands together like he’s just come in from outside.

Two pairs of blue eyes fixate on him – Teddy’s wide, almost scared-looking; Greg’s narrowed and calculating. “Oh hey,” he says, letting his eyes drift between them, holding the contact with Teddy a few seconds longer for emphasis. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” _Liar_.

Greg looks him up and down, smirking, and Billy feels instantly like he knows him. Actually, he does, he knows a hundred guys like Greg, guys who are used to controlling people and getting their way, guys who think because they’re bigger or richer or hotter than you, they own you. He got tired of guys like Greg in high school, and he’s sure as fuck not scared of them now. So he looks right back and takes a step forward, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m Billy,” he says.

“Greg Norris.” He frowns a little. “You work here?”

“I’m a friend of Teddy’s,” Billy says firmly, and he watches Teddy carefully as he says it. Teddy looks nervous still, but he stands up a little straighter, and Billy hopes that’s a good sign.

Greg looks between them and then nods to himself, glancing down at his knuckles. “ _Right_. I’m sure you are,” he says, and Billy doesn’t miss the implication there. If Teddy notices, he doesn’t react. “Well, Billy, I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve gotta borrow my boy here for the evening. Bars to hit, girls to meet, you know how it is.” He smirks.

Billy says, “Well, _we_ were going to – uh,” but he falters when he looks at Teddy again, because Teddy is staring at him and for a second, he looks absolutely _wrecked_.

Billy sucks in a breath. “Or, I guess not.”

Teddy looks at the floor. “Sorry, Billy. We’ll rain check, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” Billy says, feeling his heart drop down to somewhere around his shoes. “Well, I’m gonna get Tommy – I’ll see you later.”

He hears Teddy say, “Okay, see you,” and he sounds miserable, but Billy’s not feeling overly sympathetic. In fact, he’s angry, angry at Greg for being a total douchewad, angry at Teddy for putting up with it, angry at himself for actually _hoping_ – for whatever he’s been hoping, some unattainable bullshit he had no right to even entertain. Teddy’s clearly chosen a side here.

“Okay, maybe there aren’t sides, exactly,” he admits to Tommy under his breath, fastening his leash and accepting several excited licks on his fingers. “I’ve only known him for like, two weeks. Barely. God, listen to me.” Tommy whines at the front door but Billy takes him out the side, unwilling to walk past Teddy and Greg again. Nate barks viciously from his kennel when they pass, sending Tommy skittering into the back of Billy’s knees.

“It’s just so completely fucked,” he continues as they walk. “Why does Teddy even hang out with that guy? He’s such a – goddamnit,” he curses as his phone goes off. It’s probably his mom. “I’m _so_ not in the mood – ”

It’s Teddy. He stops walking and feels the snap on the end of the leash as Tommy is jerked to a halt. “Shit, sorry buddy.” His hands shake a little as he answers the call.

“Billy?”

“Yeah?”

“Listen, I just wanted to explain – I’m sorry about Greg, he’s kind of…”

“A tool?” Billy supplies, feeling that’s a very generous description.

Teddy laughs shakily. “It’s complicated. We go way back.”

When he doesn’t go on, Billy says, “Wow. That sounds pretty complicated.”

“His mom and my mom were best friends, from when they were kids.” Teddy’s voice is pained. “When she died – my mom, I mean, Greg was there for me. I didn’t have anybody else.”

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that Teddy’s pulled the one card he can’t be mad at, and it’s not fair that Teddy’s lost so much that he feels like has to hold onto someone like _Greg_. Billy swallows the lump in his throat and says, “Yeah, I get it.”

“Do you?”

“Well, not from personal experience, but yeah, I see where you’re coming from,” he amends, rubbing a hand over his forehead in frustration. “Makes sense.”

“I really did want to hang out tonight,” Teddy says quietly.

Billy exhales and fixes his eyes on Tommy, determined not to cry. “Yeah, me too. Don’t sweat it, though. Another time.” Tommy barks and pulls on the leash. “I gotta go, but I’ll talk to you later. Or I’ll see you on Monday, anyways, when I drop Tommy off.”

“Okay, for sure,” Teddy says, sounding relieved. “Call me if you’re bored this weekend, or whatever.”

“Definitely,” he says, even though he knows he won’t call.

 _It’s for the best_ , he thinks as he hangs up the phone and resumes walking. Where was it gonna go with Teddy, anyways? Best case scenario, he’d have some tragic unrequited crush on the guy for the foreseeable future, probably for the next year at least, because Billy doesn’t see how he could take Tommy away from his friends at the shelter, or do without the boarding and obedience classes at the moment.

No, he doesn’t need that drama. Better to get some space now, get over it, spend the weekend clearing his head. 

“Right, Tommy?” he says once they’re back in the apartment. “We’ll get some quality time in this weekend; bro out and stuff. I know my parents want to meet you.”

Tommy noses his hand. “You’re lucky you don’t have to deal with any of this crap,” Billy tells him, rubbing a hand down his chest. “Wish I was a dog.”

He laughs as Tommy jumps up on the bed and starts ripping into a sock contentedly. Well, at least one of them is happy.

***

It’s almost eleven when Tommy jerks upright and starts sniffing around the door. Billy looks up from his laptop, where he’s doing work, of all things. Regular party animal he is. “You need to go out, buddy?”

Tommy whines and wags his tail. 

“All right, let’s go.” He pulls on his coat and scarf quickly, knowing the longer he takes, the more likely it is he’ll have a puddle to clean up. He fastens Tommy’s leash and is promptly dragged out the door. 

The second they’re outside, he wishes Tommy had just gone in the apartment. He’s managed to avoid John Kessler for about a week now, but it seems his luck has finally run out. Kessler’s standing in front of the building with three other guys, smoking cigarettes closer to the front door than is legal, but fuck if Billy’s gonna say anything about it.

“Sorry,” he mutters, brushing past them towards the bushes that Tommy likes to go in. One of Kessler’s friends makes an offended noise, and Billy feels a chill of dread go down his spine.

“Trying to cop a feel, Kaplan?” Kessler calls. He’s slurring – drunk, _really_ drunk, which is just great. “S-saw you checkin’ me out.”

His friends all laugh. Billy ignores them and keeps his eyes fixed on Tommy, who’s now looking for a nice spot to take a dump. His knuckles are white around the loop of the leash as Kessler stumbles down the stairs towards him.

“You fucking looking at me?” Kessler demands.

“I’m not looking at you,” Billy says through gritted teeth.

A small shove to his shoulder. _This_ isn’t going anywhere good. Tommy looks up from where he’s been sniffing and growls.

“You better not be fucking looking at me,” Kessler says again, voice loud and threatening. “You don’t wanna know what we do to fags who can’t keep their eyes to themselves.”

“Jesus Christ, Kessler, I’m _not_ fucking looking at you,” he snaps. “I’m just taking my fucking dog out, okay? Leave me alone.”

Kessler’s completely in his space now, and he’s still not looking, but he can smell the alcohol on his breath where it’s hitting the back of his neck. “The fuck did you just say to me?”

Tommy barks once, then resumes growling. Billy doesn’t say anything, just keeps his eyes down.

After a moment, Kessler take a step back. “Where’s your boyfriend tonight?” he asks, and his friends on the steps hoot with laughter.

And that’s fucking it. Billy’s had it. He’s not sure if it’s stupidity or just a complete lack of self preservation that causes it, because he really should be afraid of John Kessler, but he’s just… _not_. The guy’s a bottom-feeding Neanderthal, and Billy’s given over enough anxiety to people like him. It never changes. Just the same old homophobic, idiotic fuckery, and there’s honestly very little this guy can do to him that he hasn’t been through time and time again since high school. If it comes down to it, he’s fairly sure he can outrun him, anyways.

“I don’t _have_ a boyfriend,” Billy says, still keeping his eyes averted. “You can quit asking, though. I gotta say; you’re not really my type.”

He feels a small thrill as he looks up and sees Kessler’s face go an ugly, purple color, and then pain explodes in the left side of his face and he goes down to the ground.

“You fucking cocksucker,” Kessler slurs, booting him in the ribs. “Fucking talk to me like that again, you’ll be pissing blood for a goddamn _week_.”

Billy gasps and coughs and brings his hand up to clutch at his face. His eye is stinging, and there’s blood streaming through his eyelashes. And – it takes him a moment to notice it, but by the time he realizes Tommy’s leash is no longer around his hand, it’s too late.

Kessler reaches down to grab a handful of his hair, and Billy hears a thundering growl, and then Kessler is staggering backward and screaming, because Tommy’s got his jaws latched onto Kessler’s hand, snarling and tearing with a ferocity he usually reserves for Billy’s couch cushions. Kessler’s friends all rush down the stairs, shouting, and Billy throws himself forward, grabbing Tommy around his middle.

“Tommy! No!” he yells. “Let go!”

A second later, Tommy’s trembling and barking savagely in his lap, and Kessler’s moaning, clutching at his mangled hand. Billy can distinctly see at least four puncture wounds; there’s blood everywhere.

“You – fucker! I’ll fucking sue you!” Kessler shouts, voice contorted with pain and rage. “I’ll fucking sue you and kill that fucking dog!”

Billy holds Tommy to him tightly and gets to his feet. “Sure,” he replies, forcing as much acid into his voice as possible. “Go right ahead. I’ll call the cops right now and have your ugly ass brought up on a fucking hate crime.” He points to his bloody face. “You wanna play this game, Kessler? Because I can go upstairs and take some pictures right now. Or just go straight to the station. Your call.”

He gets a murderous glare in response, but Kessler doesn’t say anything.

“That’s what I thought.”

Kessler hisses in pain. “This is _so_ not over.”

Billy nods to his hand, wincing in pain from the movement. “You might want to get that checked out. I dunno if Tommy here’s had all his shots.” That’s a complete lie, but it does the trick. Kessler and his friends take off down the block, and after a few minutes, Tommy settles down enough to finally take a shit.

When they’re back in the apartment, Billy’s somewhat horrified to see blood around Tommy’s muzzle and cleans him up first. He’s reminded of Nate, how he just went berserk and attacked Jonas out of nowhere – but this _wasn’t_ like that, he tells himself. Tommy was protecting him. Kessler threw the first punch. Not Tommy.

It’s probably not something he should be encouraging, but he can’t bring himself to be upset with his dog. “I love you,” he mumbles into Tommy’s fur, hugging him close. “You’re such a good dog.”

He washes his face and examines the cut under his eyebrow in the mirror. It’s not too deep, but his eye is already starting to blacken. Between that and the still-visible cat scratches on his face, he looks…well, he looks likes someone who should probably spend the rest of the weekend inside. Maybe put off visiting his family for another few days. He doesn’t need to give his parents any high school flashbacks.

Tommy sleeps under the covers with him that night. He shakes, whether from cold or from something else, Billy doesn’t know, but he turns the thermostat up to sixty-eight and holds his dog close, stroking his ears absentmindedly and whispering praise.

When he wakes up the next morning, he’s drenched in sweat and his eye is swollen shut, but Tommy’s finally stopped shivering. He decides to count it as a victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay also just because I'm getting comments on this, Kessler will _not_ be pursuing legal action against Billy, I'm not enough of a grown-up to make that work, and homeboy's got priors so he can't really afford to be getting caught throwing homophobic punches. unfortunately, he now has something to hold over Billy's head, SO. 
> 
> **ominous tone**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this fic was meant to be 6 chapters, but it's looking like its gonna be 7. sorry, four years of lit reviews made me the most rambly, least concise writer on the planet. it's terrible. 
> 
> also, I added some puppy pictures at the end so you guys can see what our little young avenger pups look like :) in my brain at least.

He stays inside all day Saturday, except to take Tommy out, but when Sunday rolls around and it’s a gorgeous, unseasonably warm day, Billy decides not to waste it, despite the visible bruising around his eye. “Makes me look tough, right Tommy?” he asks as they head out the door.

Tommy’s tongue hangs out in a wide, happy smile when he tilts his head back to look up at Billy, and he licks his nose and barks.

“Glad you think so.”

It’s a perfect day for going to the park; there’ll be great people watching, and lots of other dogs for Tommy to interact with. He can’t believe Tommy’s episode with Kessler the other day was anything but a fluke – Tommy’s _never_ been like that with him, with Teddy, he’s just a puppy for crying out loud, he shouldn’t have a mean bone in him. Should he? Billy’s been going back and forth ever since the incident about whether he should tell Teddy. One the one hand, it’s kind of a no-brainer, since Teddy is, for all intents and purposes, Tommy’s dog trainer. On the other hand…well, on the other hand, Billy’s gotten it into his head that this whole situation is more complicated than that, and it’s really _not_ , just because he has an out-of-control crush, and Teddy’s a good person, and Billy can already picture the way his jaw will clench and his eyes will narrow when Billy explains to him what happened, and he’s not emotionally prepared to deal with that kind of reaction.

He’s got another day or so to mull it over. It’s the best kind of Sunday, the kind before a national holiday, and he has Monday off work thanks to the tireless efforts of Martin Luther King Jr. and the Civil Rights Movement. Normally, he’d be taking Tommy to the shelter on Monday, but he hasn’t yet decided if he’s going to. It might be a good idea to stay away for as long as possible; get his head on as straight as it’s ever gonna be.

Deep down, he thinks he’s probably just deluding himself.

Tommy wags his tail and pants little puffs of steam, trotting in front of him all the way to 5th Ave. As they turn the corner to head into a park, a store display catches his eye; one for an upscale pet boutique. It’s amazing how attuned he is now to the vague shape of all things “dog” that wind up in his peripheral vision. He’s probably walked past this place a dozen times and never even noticed it before. Tommy strains at the end of his lead, and it occurs to Billy that now might be a good time to invest in a harness, something Teddy’d suggested when he observed how Tommy had a habit of strangling himself with his own collar during walks.

Might as well take a look, anyways. “C’mere, buddy. Let’s go in here,” he calls, tugging Tommy towards the storefront. “See if we can’t find you something a little more stylish to wear.” He opens the door, and Tommy charges in, enthusiastically greeting the older Schnauzer inside, who doesn’t seem to particularly care for his infectious puppy charms.

“Leave him alone,” Billy laughs. Tommy sinks low to his belly and whines, tail sweeping furiously across the floor. “I know, but he doesn’t want to play with you. Come on, we’re gonna have a little fashion show.” He tugs Tommy over to a shelf covered in harnesses, and chuckles when Tommy sniffs the entire display distastefully. “Don’t be a brat. This’ll just take a minute.”

That ends up being a lie. Tommy bites at all the basic harnesses they try on, acts fearful of a couple mesh ones, and flops to the floor in an outright refusal to move when Billy tries a cool looking vintage leather one on him. Turns out, his dog is a finicky dresser. Go fucking figure.

The store associate walks over, a guy a few years older than him in an outfit that looks way too expensive for a retail clerk. “Finding everything okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s alright. Just trying to find something for Tim Gunn here,” Billy replies dryly. Tommy’s currently trying to escape from a striped blue harness that Billy thought went nicely with his leash.

“What about this one?” the clerk offers brightly, holding out a forest green neoprene harness with little white-gold lightning bolts around the border. “We just got these in last week; they’re absolutely flying off the shelves.”

Billy takes it and blinks at the price tag. “It’s seventy-five dollars.”

The clerk smiles wider, and Billy looks down to see Tommy nosing the harness interestedly. Oh, of _course_. He sighs heavily and then slips it over Tommy’s head, fastening it around his legs, and steps back to take a look. It’s admittedly handsome, if a little big.

“He’ll grow into it,” the clerk says, and Tommy stands up and shakes himself from nose to tail, panting happily at Billy and looking rather striking, white fur against deep emerald.

Billy groans, but nods. “Yeah, okay. I guess we’re taking it.”

“Wonderful!” the clerk exclaims, and Billy has a sneaking suspicion he’s going to be doing this kind of thing a lot in the coming years. “Your dog has good taste.”

“Expensive fucking taste,” Billy mutters as they exit the shop, but it’s not like he doesn’t have a steady income, and the harness _does_ look damn good on his dog, he observes with a measure of pride.

He’s not the only one who notices.

“What a handsome boy!” an older woman coos as they wait for a crosswalk. “How old?”

“Uh, six months, give or take?”

“He’s just beautiful,” she says admiringly. “You two make a _very_ nice-looking pair.”

He grins, in spite of himself, and almost doesn’t notice the residual pain in his cheek. “Thanks.”

They’re stopped about five more times before actually getting inside the park, and Billy’s feeling fit to burst after the fifth compliment Tommy receives, as stupidly warm and happy as he’s been in months. Tommy laps up the attention, even going so far as to roll on his back for a group of schoolchildren, who all squeal in delight and fawn over him, shrieking with giggles when he lifts his head to lick their hands and faces.

A five year old girl in a pink hat with cat ears shouts, “Doggie!” and throws her arms around him, making him go very still, and Billy has a brief moment of dread when he thinks Tommy might snap at her, but he quickly realizes that Tommy’s being _gentle_ , and then he feels guilty for even thinking it, because of course Tommy’s not going to attack a little girl. He looks at Billy with a smug sort of self-awareness, and Billy knows he doesn’t even need to tell Tommy he’s being good. That dog _knows_. Cheeky little bastard.

“He’s so good with children,” the girl’s nanny tells him warmly. “You’re lucky.”

“Yeah,” Billy grins, feeling his cheeks redden with pride as Tommy sits calmly for the little girl. “Thanks, I think so too.”

“I love pits,” she confesses. “They get a bad rep, but I mean, look at him. Wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Billy swallows, thinking of Kessler’s hand. “Uh-huh.”

“I can’t believe how calm he is. You’ve done a great job training him.”

“Ah, well,” Billy’s blush deepens, “I can’t take all the credit there. He’s got a trainer. We’re – we’re both learning.”

She smiles widely, and Billy feels a little like he’s missing something. “Must be a hell of a trainer, then.”

He coughs. Universe, this is _way_ uncool. “Yeah,” he says. “He kind of is.”

“Come on, Molly,” she tugs at the girl’s jacket after a few moments. “We’re gonna be late. Say bye-bye to the nice doggie.” She gives Billy another smile, and Billy wonders if she’s trying to _flirt_ with him – but then they’re walking off, and he’s left with the uncontrollable urge to just gather his dog up in his arms and hug him forever.

“Guess those obedience lessons are actually paying off, huh?” he asks Tommy as they walk through the park. “Wait ‘till we tell Teddy, he's gonna be so impressed.” He bites his lip as soon as the words are out of his mouth. _Damnit_. He’s got to stop thinking about Teddy. He’s supposed to be getting over him, finding new things to appreciate about life, that sort of thing.

It’s kind of impossible though, because aside from the fact that they’re connected through Tommy, how exactly do you stop thinking about a guy like Teddy?

Maybe he’s going about this the wrong way. Maybe if he thinks really _hard_ about Teddy – about all the reasons it’d never work, about the shitty-ass company Teddy keeps – maybe that’d get his mind right. If he doesn’t think about the devastated look on Teddy’s face when he broke their tentative plans, or the hurt in his voice when he called Billy on Friday, or the devotion he shows to the animals, even that stupid turtle with permanent bitchface – and he _definitely_ can’t think about the way Teddy sometimes looks at _him_ , face lit up with joy like there’s nowhere else on Earth he’d rather be.

No, he one hundred percent cannot think about those things.

“I hate my entire life,” he says out loud, and then Tommy perks up at the clip-clopping sound of a horse coming up behind him. One of the Central Park carriages, most likely. They must be doing good business on a day like today.

“Come on,” Billy tugs Tommy off the path. “Out of the way.” Tommy wags his tail and looks hopefully up at Billy. “No, you can’t play with the horse.”

Tommy whines and wags his tail harder.

“Billy? Hey, Billy!”

He looks up, startled, and sees his fifteen-year-old brother poke his head out of the carriage. “Dude!” Jordan’s wide grin turns into a frown. “What the fuck happened to your face?”

“Hey!” Billy exclaims in pleasant surprise. Funny how small a town New York can be. “Oh, uh, nothing. It’s worse than it looks, I just – uh, tripped.”

Yes, that was _very_ believable. Good thing Billy’s life plans don’t involve acting.

He changes the subject. “What are you doing? Just broing out in a carriage on a Sunday?”

Jordan makes a face. “Yeah, me and my boys do this all the time. Asshole,” he snorts. “Nah, I’ve got Rachel in here. We’re on a _date_.” He blushes a little, and Billy resists the urge to reach up and noogie him.

The driver turns in his seat to eyeball Billy. “You gettin’ in?”

Billy stares. “Uh…”

“You should!” Jordan says eagerly. “Bring, uh, what’s his name?” He points at Tommy. “Mom’s dying to meet him. I think she’s about to put that shitty cell phone picture you sent her up on the fridge.”

“Dog counts as a passenger,” the driver barks. “He don’t ride for free.”

That’s the funny thing about New York. One minute you’re watching hot dog vendors haggle with old Chinese ladies over condiments, the next, you’ve managed to run into your teenage little brother and are headed to the Upper West Side in a horse-drawn carriage. Tommy’s loving it, at least. He sits pressed between Billy’s legs and the carriage steps, craning his neck around the side and barking at every dog they pass.

“He’s so cute,” Rachel says longingly from her side of the carriage. Billy likes Rachel a lot. She and Jordan have been dating since they started tenth grade, a marathon relationship for kids their age. 

He grins at her. “It’s good to see you, Rach. You look – different?” He squints a little, trying to put his finger on it. “Haircut?”

She shakes her head and smiles hugely, showing off rows of straight white teeth – _oh_. “You got your braces off! Right on.”

“Thanks. I mean, yeah,” she nods. “Last week.”

“So what’s the occasion?” Billy asks, gesturing to the carriage. “Just felt like going for a ride?”

Jordan scoffs. “Dude, no. It’s our four month anniversary.”

“Five,” Rachel corrects.

“Yeah, that’s what I meant. Five months.”

“Wow.” Billy nods seriously. “You guys are practically married.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Jordan elbows him in the side, and he gasps a little, feeling the bruises where Kessler booted him in the ribs. “Jesus. You sure you’re okay?”

“Fine, Mom,” Billy teases through clenched teeth. “Just not used to my little brother being able to beat me up, that’s all.”

“ _Please_.” Jordan rolls his eyes. “I had you on your ass when I was like, ten.”

“He’s _lying_ ,” Billy stage-whispers to Rachel. “He’s just trying to impress you.”

She smirks. “I’m pretty sure he stopped trying to impress me like, three months ago.”

“Excuse me? Are we or are we not currently in a freaking horse carriage like a couple of rich West Coast tourists?” Jordan demands, turning to her with an air of mock indignation. “Christ, woman. Starting to think Billy has the right idea, dating dudes.”

Rachel laughs and shoves at him. “Hey, don’t let me stand in your way.”

They grin at each other goofily for a minute, and Billy bites back a smile of his own, choosing instead to reach down and rub Tommy briskly around the edges of his harness.

“I can sense you patronizing us in your thoughts,” Jordan accuses.

“Oh, is that right?”

“Mmhm. You’re all, ‘ _ah, young love, blooming like the spring_ ’ and shit.”

“Wow, little bro, you must have ESPN or something.” Billy presses a hand to his chest and closes his eyes. “Like a pair of twitterpated fawns – ”

“Shut _up_ ,” Jordan groans. “Oh my God.”

***

It’s only a few short blocks to his parent’s place from where the carriage drops them at the edge of the park, and Tommy must sense that they’re going someplace important, because he’s practically beside himself, rushing towards the steps of every brownstone, convinced each one is their final destination.

“Almost there, buddy,” Billy tells him steadily, shortening the leash a little. “Take it easy, you’ll be all worn out before we even get there.” Actually, that might not be such a bad thing.

“I can’t believe you got a dog,” Jordan says. “Ben’s gonna take a dump in his pants.”

“I should bring him to the shelter one day,” Billy says thoughtfully. “He’d be in heaven.” Ben’s their other little brother; he’s thirteen and _obsessed_ with animals. He’s the one who inherited all of Billy’s old dog books – “inherited” by way of borrowing them and hoarding them under his bed until Billy went to college and forgot about them.

“Yeah, and then he’ll adopt every freaking dog there.”

Billy laughs. “Man, you don’t wanna know how close I’ve been to doing that.” They climb the steps to his building and he grins at the doorman. “Hey, Nelson! Long time.”

The older black man nods to him warmly and casts a wary eye down at Tommy. “Your mama know you’re bringing that thing upstairs?”

“She does not, so if we come back through in five minutes, you’ll know why.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Good to see you, son.”

“Yeah, you too.” 

He can feel his own anticipation rubbing off on Tommy during the elevator ride up, and pretends not to notice that Jordan’s snaked his hand around into Rachel’s back pocket. He is _not_ jealous of his little brother’s high school relationship. That is not a thing that is happening.

Rebecca Kaplan throws open the door before they even get a chance to knock and beams hugely at Billy, immediately pulling him into a tight embrace. “Oh, what a wonderful surprise,” she sighs, and Billy hugs her back. “Billy, sweetheart, I’ve missed you.” She pulls back and rubs a hand down his arm. “It’s so strange not having you home.”

“Mom, I didn’t live at home for like, five years.”

“I know, but then you were back, and – I just missed you, okay? At least in college, you still came home on the weekends to ask for money.”

He slips inside, still holding tightly to Tommy’s leash, and says, “So, what I’m getting from this is that you want me to ask you for money more.”

“You can certainly try,” she replies, pulling his coat off and patting his cheek. “I’m kidding, honey, of course we’ll give you money if you need it.”

He blushes. “I’m good, Mom.”

“I know. I’m going to ask you what happened to your face, but _first_ ,” she pronounces, crouching down to Tommy’s level, “I need to formally meet this handsome boy.”

“Mom, Tommy; Tommy, Mom,” Billy introduces them, nudging Tommy forward when he presses against Billy’s leg, uncharacteristically shy. “Don’t worry buddy, she won’t bite.”

She holds out a hand to him and he licks it, and allows her to scratch him behind the ears. “He seems okay,” Billy says cautiously. “I guess I’ll try and take his leash off.”

Rebecca stands up and brushes her hands off on her jeans. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

As it turns out, the worst that can happen is Tommy getting a hold of an entire pan of chicken lasagna when Jordan leaves the fridge open for a second too long and burying his face in it, half eating, half scattering cheese and sauce and chicken all over the chestnut wood of their kitchen floor.

“ _Tommy_ ,” Billy groans, yanking his dog back and almost slipping on a wet lasagna noodle. “You’ve _got_ to be kidding me.”

It only takes about ten minutes to clean up, with Tommy looking duly abashed, and Billy’s waiting for his mother to ask them to leave, but instead she pours herself a glass of wine and laughs, snapping pictures with her cell phone.

“He’s a puppy, all right,” she says, reaching down to pick up a shred of chicken Billy missed.

“I know, we’re working on – ” Billy starts to say, and then his jaw drops as his mom turns to Tommy, shows him the piece of chicken and says, “Sit.”

Tommy sits. Then he holds his paw out to shake, lies down, rolls over, and sits up on his haunches – every single trick Teddy’s taught him during their obedience class sessions.

Rebecca praises, “Good dog,” and gives him the chicken.

Twenty minutes later, Tommy’s asleep in front of the fire, and his mother is bringing out a tray with tea and cookies. She’s historically not one for refined sugar, and Billy raises an eyebrow at her.

“Rachel made them,” she explains, and passes him one. “As a surprise for Jordan. They’re actually very good.”

“Rebecca Kaplan, I can’t believe you’re going soft on me,” he grins, taking a bite. “Oh, wow. That’s a damn cookie.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You want to tell me what happened to your eye?”

“Oh, right,” he nods, chewing. “Tommy saw a squirrel; dragged me right into a pole.” He mimics the impact. “Looks worse than it is.”

“Okay,” she says. “So, what really happened?”

 _Damnit_.

“What do you mean?” he tries, but his voice squeaks, and the look she gives him tells him she’s even less convinced than she was before.

She sips her tea, and waits for him to start talking.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he starts, but she’s not buying that either. “Okay. Fine. Look, it’s just this guy in my building, he was pretty drunk, and I lost my cool – ”

“ _You_ lost your cool,” she says disbelievingly. “Sweetheart, this is what I was afraid of, you moving all the way across the city, the people are different over there, they aren’t as – ”

“Mom, stop. The exact same shit happened to me in high school, and I lived _here_ ,” he points out. “Come on.”

She says, “Billy, there are dangerous people out there, and who knows what was in that horrible man’s head? He could’ve _killed_ you.”

He throws up his hands. “Jesus, Mom, don’t you think I know that? What exactly do you suggest I do? Move to San Francisco and barricade myself in some kind of gay colony in the Haight?”

He quails under the look she gives him for that one. Then she wilts a little, and he feels awful. “No, of course not. I know there’s nothing you can – I just worry, Billy. I worry about you all the time. I know you’re strong, but there are people out there who want to hurt you for being who you are, and you’re all grown up, and I can’t protect you anymore.”

“Mom,” he mumbles, reaching over to clumsily grab her hand. “I’m fine, really.” He pauses. “I don’t know if you want to hear this, exactly, but if it makes you feel better, Tommy’s looking out for me.”

She glances over at the heap that is Tommy, snoring and drooling on the floor. “He doesn’t really seem the type,” she says doubtfully. “Unless you’re being assaulted by a lasagna.”

Billy laughs. “Hey, don’t rule it out. This is New York, anything’s possible.”

She rolls her eyes.

“No, seriously. Uh, Tommy kinda went after the guy. When it happened. Tried to take his hand off, actually.” He holds his breath; not wanting to say _it was awesome_ , because that’s not what you’re supposed to say when your dog attacks someone.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it was pretty crazy, I’ve never seen him get like that. Don’t worry, he’s really not aggressive – I think he was just protecting me?”

“What does the trainer think?”

He’d been accidentally gushing about Teddy earlier, after Tommy demonstrated his array of tricks they’d taught him, and had to cut himself off from talking, because his mother’d suddenly started asking dangerous questions, like how old Teddy was, if he was married, that sort of thing. “I – well, I haven’t asked him yet. But they’re big on forgiveness at the shelter. Teddy’s working with this one dog, Nate – he’s just a puppy, but some people made him fight, and he was really messed up over it, but I think he’s actually starting to come around.”

“Teddy’s working with him?”

“Yeah, he works with all the dogs there. I don’t know how he finds the time honestly, the guy’s beyond dedicated. If anyone can turn that dog around, it’s him. I mean, you’ve seen how Tommy…” he trails off, because his mom is getting another look, one he’s seen before and has no interest in seeing right now. “No, it’s not like that,” he says warningly. “Mom. Stop it. I see your brain going.”

She straightens and sets her tea down, her face a mask of innocence. “I have no idea what you mean. Will you take these dishes to the kitchen?”

“Sure,” he says suspiciously. “Be right back.”

He washes the plates and cups and then hesitates in the entrance to the living room, because his mother is crouched over Tommy, stroking his head tenderly. It looks like they’re having a moment. Tommy stirs on the floor and licks at his nose, yawning sleepily.

“Thank you,” he hears her say softly. “Thank you for watching out for my baby.”

Tommy sneezes and presses his head into her heads.

“That’s a good boy.”

Billy clears his throat awkwardly and walks into the room, fiddling with his keys in his pocket. “Mom, we should probably go…it’ll be dark in an hour or so, and I don’t really want to be in the park once it is.”

She stands up, looking almost guilty. “You’re not walking all the way home.”

“It’s like, not even two miles.”

“You’re _not_ walking all the way home,” she repeats sternly. “It’s too cold. Tommy needs a jacket.”

“Tommy doesn’t need a jacket, for crying out loud. He’s a dog.”

She crosses her arms at him defiantly. “Dogs don’t get cold?”

“Well – no, I’m sure they do – look, Tommy’s fine, okay? It’s not snowing. It’s not even freezing. We’ll – oh my God, _fine_ , fine we’ll walk across the park and cab it the rest of the way,” he relents, exasperated. “Jesus.”

She smiles, satisfied. “Do you need cab fare, sweetie?”

“No, that’s okay. Thanks, Mom.”

“Jordan!” she calls down the hall. “Your brother’s leaving!”

Jordan comes jogging out of his room, followed closely by Rachel, looking somewhat overexerted. Billy bites down on a smirk, and Jordan says, “It’s not what you think, we’re just in the middle of a really intense round of Mario Kart.”

Billy nods wisely. “Say no more. I totally get it. Nice to see you, Rachel.”

She shuffles forward to give him a hug. “See you Saturday?”

He frowns. “Huh?”

“Oh, that’s right, I almost forgot,” his mom says. “We’re having Jordan’s birthday dinner a couple days early this year.”

“You can come, right?” Jordan asks, and although he sounds sincerely hopeful, Billy suspects he just wants more presents.

“Definitely, I’ll be here,” he promises. “We’ll be here,” he amends, looking down at Tommy, who whines expectantly.

“And Ben will be here too; I’m sorry you missed him,” his mother adds, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“Sweet.” Billy gives her the thumbs up, and jiggles Tommy’s leash in his hand. “Ready to go, buddy?”

Tommy gives him a plaintive look that says, _do I have to_?

“Yeah, come on. We’ll be back, don’t worry. Oh, honestly,” he sighs, reaching down to clip on Tommy’s leash and tug him upright. “Quit it, you’re making me look bad.”

It takes a little more coaxing to get Tommy out the door of his new favorite place, and then they’re in the elevator again, and Billy waves goodbye to Nelson, and by the time he gets outside, the clouds have returned, and the temperature has dropped about ten degrees, so he ends up cabbing the whole way back to his apartment, foregoing the half-mile walk through the park. Tommy hangs his head out the window and almost climbs through it when a woman walks past them with a dog that looks remarkably like Kate – Billy restrains him, barely – and then they’re home.

 _Home_. Billy smiles up at his dark window, and he really feels it. He sees Kessler coming around the corner from the trashcans as he unlocks the front door, but to his immense relief, Kessler immediately turns on his heel and walks back in the direction he came from. Billy doesn’t miss the bandages on his hand, though, and feels a sense of grim satisfaction. 

“You’re the best dog ever,” he tells Tommy once they’re inside his apartment, trading his harness for the smooth leather collar he’d come with. Tommy looks up at him with soulful blue eyes, and then vomits lasagna all over his shoes.

***

“Hello?” he hisses into the phone, peering over the side of the desk he’s crouched on top of. “Mom?”

There’s a brief silence, and then, “Billy? What’s wrong? Where are you?”

“I’m at the shelter.”

“Why are you whispering?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain.” The dog growls at him again, and he shrinks back. He’s never seen it before; it’s some kind of frightening-looking mix with too much hair and not enough snout, and it looks like it literally crawled out of a dumpster. If he had to guess, he’d say it was some kind of Chow-Chow/hellhound mix.

“All right. I’m just making sure you remember about Jordan’s birthday dinner on Saturday. We’re eating around seven, so get here by six.”

“Yep. Sure thing.”

“And bring Teddy.”

It takes a minute to register, and he holds the phone away from his ear to frown at it before saying, “ _What_?”

“Bring. Teddy,” his mother enunciates, like he’s an idiot. “Just ask him. Your father’s making brisket. Does Teddy like brisket?”

“Mom, how the hell should I – okay, actually yes, he does, but I’m not inviting him! No way. There’s _nothing_ going on between us, whatever you’re thinking.”

She makes a tutting sound and says, “For heaven’s sakes, Billy, I never suggested there was. I just want to meet the man who’s training my grand-dog.”

“Grand-dog,” he repeats. “Mom, are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

The strange dog barks, a horrible, vicious sound, and he shrinks lower.

“Just promise me you’ll ask.”

“I’m not promising that.”

The dog is baring his teeth, and it occurs to him that there’s a very real possibility his last act on this earth could be letting his mother down. If Teddy doesn’t come back from whatever errand he’s on soon and apprehend this feral animal, it’s quite likely. “Okay, fine,” he sighs. “I’ll ask.”

“Thank you, sweetie. I’ll see you Saturday.”

“Bye, Mom. Love you.” He swallows hard and stares down the dog. “Please don’t eat me. I’m so close to getting a raise at work, you have no idea.”

The dog barks and lunges forward, and he flails and loses his balance completely, toppling off the desk and smacking his head on the corner. “ _Ow_.” He half expects the dog to rush around and rip him limb from limb, but instead he hears the door opening, and then Teddy’s voice is saying, “Logan! What are you doing out here, boy?”

He hauls himself up from behind the desk, and Teddy jumps. “Whoa. What happened to you?”

Billy brushes himself off and points to the mangy looking dog that Teddy is now stroking the head of. “What the hell is that thing?”

“This guy? This is Logan; he just got back from foster care.” Teddy scratches Logan behind a torn ear, and Logan nuzzles against him contentedly. _Well_.

“What were you doing behind the desk?”

“Um. Hiding?”

Teddy cocks his head sideways, and then looks at Logan. “From him?”

“Possibly.” Logan doesn’t seem so scary now. He takes a couple steps forward, then scrambles back when Logan bristles and barks savagely again. “Jesus. Yes, from him.”

“Hey!” Teddy says sharply to Logan. “Cut that out! Sorry,” he shrugs at Billy. “He’s really not a bad dog, but he’s weird around strangers. It’s one of the things we’re working on, right buddy?” Logan whines, and Teddy smoothes the patchy fur on top of his head. “Go lie down, Logan.”

Logan licks him and then trots off, pausing once in the doorway to growl again at Billy. Teddy says, “ _Go_ ,” and then he lowers his tail and disappears around the corner.

Billy lets out the breath he’s been holding. “Thanks. Wow.” He reaches up to push his hair into some kind of order, and his hand comes away bloody. “Oh, crap.” His stupid cut opened up.

Teddy’s in his space at once, and Billy’s chest spasms when he reaches out and hooks his thumb over Billy’s chin, examining Billy’s face closely. “What happened to you?” he repeats.

“Oh, I just – I’m a dumbass and sort of fell,” Billy laughs shakily. “Logan was being all crazy, I didn’t think – ”

“No, I mean,” Teddy gestures to his bruised face. “All this. The older stuff.”

He’s still touching Billy, and although it’s been three days since Billy’s seen him, and in those three days he managed to convince himself wholeheartedly that Teddy was off limits for every kind of non-platonic thought, it may as well now be like those three days never happened. Billy’s practically swooning under Teddy’s gaze and hands, desperate to have them all over him, fuck the consequences, fuck _everything_ , he just needs Teddy, he doesn’t need anything else.

“Oh, that.” He decides to try the approach he used with his mom. “Tommy saw a squirrel; dragged me right into a pole. It looks worse than it is.”

Teddy frowns, but doesn’t contradict him. “We need to clean this. Here, come upstairs.”

“Up…stairs?”

“Yeah, to my apartment. I’ve got a first aid kit in there. For humans,” he grins. “Unless you want Vetrap around your head, in which case, we can stay down here.”

Billy lets out a shaky laugh and says, “Sure, lead the way.”

They ascend stairs outside the kennels to the upper level of the building, and Billy realizes with a start that Teddy’s apartment is the entire second floor. “Whoa,” he says appreciatively. “This place is _huge_.”

Teddy laughs and brushes past him. “Yeah, Luke and Jess used to live up here. It’s too big for one person, really. Costs a fortune to heat around this time.”

“Did it come with all this furniture?” Billy asks, looking around. It doesn’t look like any apartment he’s seen someone their age live in. The furniture is mostly matching, older but well kept, and there are rugs and shelves full of books and even a wall clock.

“Oh, no, that’s all from my mom’s house,” Teddy explains, emerging from the bathroom with a box that must be the first aid kit. “Couldn’t really afford to store it, and we don’t have any local relatives to take it. And I dunno,” he looks at the ground, kicking the corner of the rug with his shoe. “I guess I didn’t really want to sell it, you know. If I could help it.”

“That makes total sense,” Billy tells him, wiping some blood away from his eye. He really needs to stop getting so worked up around Teddy; at the rate his heart is going; he’ll bleed out through this stupid scratch in ten minutes. “I guess it’s lucky you found such a big place.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Teddy nods, rummaging in the kit. He motions for Billy to sit on the couch. “There’s a nice little garden up on the roof too; it’s pretty sweet.”

“A rooftop garden?” Billy laughs, incredulous. “Damn, check you out.”

“’I’m Teddy Altman, and welcome to my crib’,” Teddy jokes. “Yeah, I’m basically a rap star. In addition to being the world’s most inept manager.”

Billy rolls his eyes. “Please. This place would burn to the ground if it wasn’t for you.” He cringes a little as Teddy dabs rubbing alcohol over the cut. “Sorry, I’m a wuss.”

“Hardly,” Teddy snorts. “Billy, I have to medicate cats for a living. Trust me, you’re great.”

Something inside Billy hums at the praise, like he’s a goddamn kid at the doctor, waiting for his lollipop. Oh – no, that train of thought turns dirty _really_ fast. _Stop it, Billy. This is not a porno_.

“How’s it looking?” he asks.

“Not bad, considering you got sucker-punched in the eye,” Teddy says, matter-of-factly.

“I – what? No I didn’t,” Billy protests. He cannot, _cannot_ have this conversation with Teddy. It’s too much.

“Billy, come on, I’m not a fucking idiot. I know what a right hook to the face looks like. Be straight with me.”

Billy fights the reckless, uncontrollable urge to laugh at Teddy’s choice of words, and in doing so, accidentally tells the truth. “You remember that guy from my building?”

Teddy goes very still over the first aid kit. “Uh-huh.”

“I sort of mouthed off to him the other night. And, um. He didn’t like it.”

“’Mouthed-off,’” Teddy repeats, looking extremely skeptical. “What did you say?”

“I don’t know,” Billy sighs, flinching again as Teddy presses a piece of gauze over his eyebrow. “He was just being a drunk douchebag, giving me a hard time, getting in my face. He started hassling me about ‘my boyfriend’, and I told him he wasn’t my type."

Teddy jaw is working just like he thought it would, tight with suppressed anger, but he cracks a smile at that. “Nice.”

“Yeah, and then. Well. Actually, I probably should’ve told you this already, because after he punched me, Tommy sorta went nuts and bit him.”

Teddy’s eyes catch his and hold, overbright and intense, and he knows he was about to say something else, but he can’t for the life of him remember what it was. “Good,” Teddy says, quiet but fierce. His palm is a hot press on the side of Billy’s head, thumb holding the gauze on in an almost-caress. Billy wants to close his eyes, lean into it, but he flexes his hands instead and forces himself to focus.

“I mean, I’m not too broken up about it, but I feel like it’s not good that he went and attacked somebody.”

Teddy lets out a frustrated-sounding sigh and removes the gauze, smoothing down a small butterfly bandage in its place. He sits heavily next to Billy on the sofa and says, “I’m trying to think of how to say this.”

Billy says, “Okay.”

“The thing about Tommy is, he’s like – he has his pack, right? Eli, Kate, Jonas, and Cassie?”

Billy nods.

“Well, you adopted him, so you’re kind of his pack now. ‘Pack’ isn’t really the right word, they’re not wolves, but you know what I mean, right?”

“I think so.”

“It’s more than just a connection, it’s like, something Tommy’s instincts will always tell him to defend. Because he knows that his well-being is directly impacted by yours. It’s not really the same thing as being aggressive, at least, I don’t think it is in this case.” He rolls one of his earrings between his fingers, brow creased in thought. “He hasn’t done anything like that with anyone else, right?”

“No, no way,” Billy shakes his head. “He’s great with everyone else. It’s just Kessler.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t worry about it being an aggression thing then. Honestly, if there’s a way to train a dog not to defend its owner, or pack or whatever, I don’t know it,” Teddy says bluntly, “and I probably wouldn’t use it if I did. Dogs are smart. They know when people are just messing around, and when they actually want to hurt you.” He bites his lip, and Billy’s fingers are suddenly tight against his jeans. God, that’s unfair. “Did you, uh, tell your boyfriend what happened?”

Billy stares at him, open-mouthed. “My – _huh_?”

Teddy blushes deep red. “I – you said Kessler was making fun of your boyfriend?”

“Oh, _no_ ,” a nervous laugh bubbles out of him before he can suppress it, “no, um, I don’t have a boyfriend. I think he was talking about you. You know, because he saw us together that one time.” _Jesus fucking Christ, stop talking_.

Teddy says, “Oh,” and nods vaguely, looking at his hands, his cheeks a gorgeous shade of pink that makes Billy’s stomach turn inside out on itself.

There’s a tense, unbearable silence, and because Billy is physically incapable of keeping his mouth shut, he says, “Hey, do you want to come to my brother’s birthday dinner on Saturday? He’s turning sixteen; my dad’s making brisket.”

Teddy stares at him with wide eyes, lips parted, and Billy falls all over himself trying to backtrack. “I mean – obviously you don’t have to – if you have plans – I just, my mom – ”

“I’d love to,” Teddy says, and there’s a smile playing around his lips like he can’t quite help it.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, dude. I love brisket. That’s awesome.”

“I know you do,” he says without thinking. There’s something light and playful sparkling behind Teddy’s eyes, and it’s probably going to be the death of him. At the very least, it’s taking years off his natural life. “So, um. Cool.”

“Cool,” Teddy agrees, clapping his hands on his knees and standing up. “How’s your face?”

He feels along the bandage. “One hundred percent fewer open wounds, so I think we’re good.”

“Right on,” Teddy grins. “Ready to face the wolverine?”

“The what now?”

“Oh, it’s just a joke, it’s what we call Logan when he’s all prickly like that.”

Billy nods. “I can see why.”

“You wanna talk about aggression, that’s your guy,” Teddy sighs. “He’s impossible. But I think he’s gonna be around for a while, so you should probably get to know him.” There’s an implication there, Billy thinks, that _he’s gonna be around for a while, and so are you_ , and he shouldn’t look at it too hard, shouldn’t take it as anything more than a statement about the fact that Tommy’s not done with obedience classes, but he winds up holding onto it as tightly as he can, the last stupid hope of a desperate man.

They go out for drinks after, and Billy laughs harder than he has in months, choking on his vodka tonic until Teddy has to thump him on the back. When he gets home, Kessler’s lurking outside again, and when he quickly turns and walks away, Billy barely resists the urge to shout after him, _Ask me about my boyfriend now_!

Tommy poops out an entire shoelace on the floor in the middle of the night, but even that doesn’t wipe the smile off his face.

“In the wise words of Usher,” he mumbles drunkenly to his dog, waiting for him to find the right bush to pee in, “I’ve got it bad.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm _so_ sorry this chapter took so long to post! I'd cite the length, but that's only part of it; I've been working double shifts and having some personal issues, anyways, the next chapters will definitely be up in a more timely manner. thanks so much for reading!

“Is this okay?”

Teddy sounds nervous, and Billy is making every effort not to read anything into it. He’s wearing brown corduroy pants, slim fitted and a little bunched around his sneakers, and a green and gray striped sweater that makes Billy’s fingers curl inward into his palms in an unconscious reprimand of _don’t touch_. His sneakers are white with gray accents and remarkably clean looking, especially considering the amount of filthy snow that’s covered every surface in the city for the past few weeks.

Billy says, “You look great,” and then wants to hit himself. This is _not_ a date, goddamnit. He did not show up with an armful of roses, rather, an armful of pitbull, and the amount of time he spent trying to make his bangs cooperate in the mirror earlier has no bearing on any of this. “Really, my parents are chill, they won’t care. My mom already loves you.”

Teddy pauses with one arm through his coat and turns to grin at Billy. “You told your mom about me?”

“Well – yeah, I mean, about Tommy, and how you’re training him, and stuff,” Billy clarifies in a rush. “She calls him her grand-dog; I think she’s kinda losing it.”

Teddy laughs and pulls his scarf on, grabbing a small grocery bag off the desk. “That’s sweet. I’m excited to meet her.”

He flushes a little, and nope, Billy’s not reading anything into that either.

“What’s in the bag?”

“Uh,” Teddy pulls out a bottle of wine. “An ’09 California Syrah?” He shrugs helplessly. “I know exactly zero things about wine.”

“No, that’s awesome,” Billy says sincerely. “My parents are way into wine; they’ll love it.” He’s almost positive his parents will turn their nose up at it, but whatever, more for them. _He_ likes Syrah, anyways.

They catch a cab outside the shelter and crack the window for Tommy, earning a scowl from the driver, but no comments. It’s snowing again, and flakes are floating in and dissolving on Tommy’s nose before he has a chance to lick them up.

Billy gives the driver his address, and he doesn’t miss the slight lift in Teddy’s eyebrows when he does. His parents’ four-bedroom apartment is on the modest side of luxury, unremarkable within the boundaries of their neighborhood, but their neighborhood is _nice_ , and four years of living and working in Harlem did nothing if not make him explicitly aware of just _how_ nice it is.

He searches around the suddenly tense-seeming silence in the back of the cab and says, “So…how is everyone?”

Teddy gives him a knowing grin. “God, where to start, so much has changed since you saw them yesterday.”

Billy resists the urge to reach over and smack him. _No touching_. He’ll cling to that for as long as he’s sober tonight; heaven help him once they start popping corks. Birthday parties at the Kaplan household come with built-in wine tastings, a benefit he’s always exploited tremendously, but that tonight seems on the edge of dangerous.

“Actually, you’ll like this. Kate’s been leaving food in her dish, so I went in this morning to check on her at breakfast, and Eli was _sharing_ with her.”

“Eli? Seriously?” Billy’s eyebrows shoot up.

“The freaking poster child for food aggression, I know. She just swaggered right in there, and he was all growling, like I thought for sure he was gonna take her head off, but then he just _moves over_ ,” Teddy laughs, gesturing with his hands like it’s _so_ beyond ridiculous, and Billy thinks he’s probably falling in love with the way Teddy talks about these dogs, like they’re so much more than four legs and fur for brains, like they matter, like the world should make space for them.

“So crazy,” Billy says, grinning uncontrollably.

Teddy laughs shortly and then looks at his hands. “Sorry,” he mutters, sheepish. “I should probably get a life. ‘All my friends are dogs’,” he echoes, and Billy feels the tightness of anger in his chest, feels a scowl of resentment towards _Greg_ overtake his smile. He hates Greg, for making Teddy feel this way.

“Don’t say that,” Billy protests, trying to keep the ugliness he’s feeling out of his voice. “Teddy, you have like, the best job. How many people our age are actually doing what they love?”

“You are,” Teddy says.

“I – I mean, I like my job,” he admits. “I like my job a lot. But it’s still – it’s still my job. It’s not, like – ” he wants to say _it’s not part of my soul, it doesn’t make a difference in the world, you save lives and you fix the unfixable and I just write copy for a major corporation_ , but that seems heavy, too heavy for the back of a cab in rush hour traffic on a Saturday. He goes with, “There are significantly less puppies involved in my work; so on that basis of comparison alone, my job is terrible.”

Teddy laughs, but it’s not particularly happy. He says, “I love it, but…” He looks out the window. “Kind of a lonely gig.”

“Hey.” Billy makes the _tragic_ error of reaching over and bumping a knuckle against Teddy’s thigh. His hand takes an agonizingly long time to come back to him, and _Teddy_ – Teddy actually becomes very still, eyes darting to where Billy just touched, lips open slightly, possibly in silent protest, possibly because he _knows_.

Billy swallows hard and presses back into his corner of the worn navy leather seat. “I’m not a dog,” he manages to say. “You’ve got me.”

It seems like an incredibly stupid thing to say, especially when Teddy turns to look him right in the eyes, probing and thoughtful, like he’s hearing every possible meaning Billy’s unconsciously throwing behind those words.

Teddy picks his hand up suddenly, fingers curling out from a fist, and it freezes a few inches off the seat, and Billy doesn’t look directly at it, because in his peripheral vision like this, it almost looks like Teddy wants to reach out and touch him, but if he acknowledges it, it might take the shape of something less friendly.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

Teddy’s hand falls back to the seat.

Tommy makes a choking sound, and Billy realizes _his_ hand has assumed a death grip on the neck strap of his dog’s harness. He rubs an apology behind Tommy’s ear, and then to his immense relief, the cab pulls onto his street. Just a few blocks now.

“I know,” Teddy says, almost a full minute after Billy has spoken. “I wish I had more friends like you.”

“Pfft,” Billy snorts. “I’m one of a kind, man. Accept no substitutes.”

His false bravado clears the car of all remaining tension, and then they’re outside Billy’s parents’ building, and Tommy lets out a fart that could probably level a small town right as they finish paying the fare. He thinks he sees the cab swerve as it drives off, and hopes the driver hasn’t passed out from the smell.

“Wow,” Teddy gasps, voice muffled by the sleeve covering his nose and mouth. “That was – I mean, you almost can’t be mad at that. That was amazing.”

“That was thermo-nuclear,” Billy replies, choking. “My dog is a biological weapon.”

Teddy laughs. “Seriously. Don’t let him fall into the wrong hands.” He pulls the building’s door open and props it against his shoulder. “Think of the carnage.”

Billy blushes a little at Teddy opening the door for him, which, _stupid_ , and manages to get one wave in to Nelson before Tommy is dragging him frantically towards the elevator, nails scrabbling along the tiled floor of the lobby. “Jesus. I wonder if he knows where we’re going,” he says sarcastically as they plow towards the elevator.

Teddy reaches down to rub Tommy affectionately behind the ears. “You going to Grandma’s, buddy?”

“Not you too,” Billy groans.

“You’ve got a lot to learn about dog ownership, Billy.” The elevator doors slide open to his parents’ floor, and Billy’s arm is almost yanked out of its socket again. “Especially in the city. It’s pretty much indistinguishable from parenthood. If anything,” he says with a wink as Billy swipes a thumb over the doorbell, “the dogs get _more_ spoiled.”

The smell of brisket and roasting vegetables is wafting out into the hall, and Billy hears his mother shout, “Will someone please get that? Ben?”

Another voice shouts, “I got it!” and then the door swings open and Billy finds himself at almost eye-level with a slightly more olive-skinned, younger version of himself. “Ben!” he grins, wrapping his youngest brother up in a hug. “The hell, man? I saw you like, three weeks ago, I swear you weren’t this tall.”

“ _Bill-y_ ,” Ben groans, squirming out from under his grasp. “Jeez, lemme go.” He glances bashfully at Teddy and then steps inside the apartment, giving them room to enter. Billy glances down and sees that his track pants are now ankle-length. Definitely having a growthspurt.

Teddy opens his mouth, presumably to introduce himself, but Ben’s eyes have gone big as dinner plates upon seeing Tommy. “Oh. My. God.” He sinks slowly to the ground and places his hands on either side of Tommy’s head, as carefully as if Tommy were made of glass. “He’s even cuter in person. Oh my God, Billy. Oh my _God_.”

Tommy wags his tail and licks Ben’s hand eagerly, and Ben lets out a cry of delight that squeaks in the middle, a hallmark of puberty that has Billy and Teddy sharing a quick, knowing grin. Ben looks like he’s about to lie down on the floor entirely and just let Tommy flop on top of him, but remembers himself, and stands up grudgingly.

“Hey,” he says, adopting a casual tone. He extends his hand towards Teddy. “I’m Ben Kaplan.”

Teddy takes his hand and grasps it firmly. Billy can see he’s biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “Teddy Altman. Good to meet you, Ben.”

Ben nods and then looks between them expectantly. “So, you’re Billy’s boyfriend?” He whispers the last word like it’s a confidence, and Billy knows their mother must be lurking nearby, and that Ben is just trying to prove he can keep a secret, but holy _shit_ , Billy is going to _kill_ him.

“ _No_ ,” he practically shouts, accidentally jerking Tommy backwards. “No, oh my God, Ben – ”

At the same time, Teddy says, “Oh, we’re not – ” but it’s quiet, less vehement, and it makes Billy pause. Teddy pauses at the same time, and they both gape at each other. Billy can feel his face going bright red.

“But – ” Ben looks confused, and points at Teddy. “Are – you’re gay, right?”

Billy’s going to strangle him. He’s going to strangle him, and then throw himself out the window, because that is the only reasonable thing to do in a situation like this.

Teddy laughs uneasily. “Well, yeah,” he says, rubbing a hand behind his neck. “Yeah, I am.”

 _What_?

There are too many synapses firing in Billy’s brain, he can’t think, he can’t speak. _Teddy’s_ – okay, it’s not like he hadn’t considered it, he’d never explicitly known one way or the other, but did he just come _out_ , just like that, to Billy’s thirteen year old brother? And he couldn’t have bothered to mention it to _Billy_?

Jordan comes around the corner just as Ben is frowning even harder, saying “Okay, but if you’re both – ”

“Ben!” Jordan exclaims, clapping his younger brother on the shoulder. “Come on, man. Just because two bros dig on other bros does not make them brofriends. Don’t be such a dumbass.”

Billy realizes he’s been holding his breath, and it leaves him in a sudden _whoosh_ , spurring his brain back into working order. “Hey, Jordan,” he sighs, staring quizzically at his brother’s outstretched fist before remembering to bump it with his own. “Happy birthday, man.”

“Happy birthday,” Teddy echoes, and Billy registers that his voice sounds sort of small, but he has too many things to address at the moment, so that’ll have to wait until it can be properly processed.

“Yeah, sixteen, you know,” Jordan nods, standing up a little taller and squaring his shoulders. “No big deal. Not like I’m gonna be driving, so.”

“Hey, don’t forget all the shady underage clubs you can get into,” Teddy points out. “ _And_ you can get a job at Burger King.”

Jordan laughs. “ _Hell_ yes. Only my lifelong dream.”

Tommy whines at their feet, and then Rebecca comes striding busily into the entryway, bringing the heavenly smells of the kitchen with her. “What on earth are you boys doing? Ben, why haven’t you offered to take Teddy’s coat?”

Ben mutters an apology and Teddy shrugs out of his coat, passing it to Ben and extending the bottle of wine hesitantly towards Billy’s mother. “Um, I brought this for you guys, I don’t know if it’s any good…”

She takes it and reads the label, then beams at Teddy a little too hard for Billy’s liking, especially considering all that’s gone down in the two minutes they’ve been there. “Oh, it’s lovely, thank you Teddy. I’ve heard _so_ much about you, it’s so nice to finally put a face to the name.” She scoffs at his hand and reaches out to hug him, and despite his reservations about the entire situation, Billy doesn’t miss how Teddy swallows, how he wraps both arms around Rebecca and hugs her back, almost as if he was hugging his own mother.

Which, of course, he can’t.

“Thanks for having me,” he says after a moment, pulling back and clearing his throat. 

She squeezes his arm. “We’re always glad to have Billy’s friends over. And I understand we have you to thank for this little angel,” she smiles down at Tommy, who rubs himself happily against her legs. “Oh, Billy, before I forget. I was downtown the other day and I just happened to see this darling store – the color was just perfect, and it’ll keep him nice and warm – ”

Billy narrows his eyes. “What did you do?”

“It’s just a little coat. What?” she asks to his incredulous expression. “ _You_ weren’t going to get him one.”

“Just a little coat,” Billy repeats, as his mother reaches into the closet and pulls out what looks like an enormous sleeveless onesie, green and navy striped with – “is that a turtleneck?”

She says, “It also came with a scarf.”

“Mom, I’m not putting that on my dog.” It’s funny, he thinks, that he even bothers to protest, because Tommy is already sniffing the coat/turtleneck sweater/whatever it is, and his mother is crouching down to slip it over his head. “Oh, come on,” he groans. He looks at Teddy. “Are you just gonna stand by and let this happen?”

“Definitely,” Teddy grins. “Hey, he likes it!”

Tommy stands very still, legs splayed awkwardly, gazing between them all with a mixture of hope and confusion. He looks down at his feet, as if not quite sure they’re still there.

Billy crosses his arms. “I can’t believe this.” He’s halfway certain Tommy won’t move a muscle until they take the sweater off, but after a moment, he shakes himself thoroughly from head to tail, barks, and trots off toward the kitchen, one ear bent backwards on top of his head.

“It’s not that weird,” Teddy reassures him as they make their way into the family room, having shed all their outer layers. “Hank has a tiny horse blanket that he wears when it’s really cold out. Bobbi too. Short-haired dogs, you know.” He shrugs. “It doesn’t make you less of a man, I promise.”

“It’s not my manhood I’m worried about,” Billy laughs in spite of himself. “Fine. Fine, you guys win. It’s kind of cute, I guess. Mom, if you start getting freaking outfits for him though, I’m gonna have to cut your grandma privileges.”

She rolls her eyes and says, “For heaven’s sake, Billy.”

There’s a crashing sound from the kitchen, and Jeff Kaplan comes marching out, discarding singed oven mitts and extending a hand towards Teddy. “You must be Teddy,” he says warmly, and Billy sees his father take in the measure of Teddy, from his earrings to his broad strength to the grip of his handshake. “Good to meet you, I’m Billy’s dad.”

Teddy nods and replies, “Good to meet you too, Mr. Kaplan.”

“Oh, please, call me Jeff.”

There’s something passing between Teddy and his father that has the atmosphere in the room somewhat charged, but it’s gone before Billy can fully pick up on it. He glances worriedly as his mother to see if she’s noticed, but she looks perfectly serene.

“It smells amazing.” Teddy pushes his hands in his pockets and then pulls them back out in a gesture Billy is intimately familiar with; the _oh wait, I’m an adult_ sequence. “Can I help with anything?”

“You can sit and make yourself at home,” Rebecca tells him brightly. She passes the Syrah Teddy brought to Billy’s father. “Honey, can you uncork this and set it out?”

He frowns at the label, but mercifully, before he can say anything, Rebecca adds, “Teddy brought that for us.”

“Oh! Isn’t that nice,” he smiles. “You boys go watch TV or something; I’ll get some glasses out.”

They settle in on the couch, and moments later, Ben comes racing in with Tommy, breathless and giggling, followed by his best friend, their neighbor Tuan. 

“Stop! Oh my God,” Ben gasps, rolling away from Tommy’s frantic attempts to lick his face. “Billy, your dog just French-kissed me.”

“He really did, he stuck his tongue in his _mouth_ ,” Tuan laughs, looking shyly at Teddy. “Oh, sorry.”

Teddy chuckles and waves his hand dismissively. “Don’t even worry. I’m not trying to brag or anything, but I get dogs trying to French-kiss me like, all the time.”

“You work. At an animal shelter,” Ben says suddenly, sitting upright and staring at Teddy with something like reverence. “That is so, so _cool_.”

Teddy elbows Billy. “You hear that? I’m cool. At _last_.”

Billy snorts. “Ben, did you forget your big brother works for the biggest ad firm in New York?”

Ben gives him a sort of pitying look. “You sold your soul to the Man.”

“What? No I didn’t! I work for a private corporation, not the government.”

“Uh, is there a difference?” Ben asks pointedly. Teddy laughs.

“My job _is_ cool,” Billy protests. “You know what – screw you guys, you know what we did yesterday? We played ping-pong. And drank whiskey, for brainstorming. I got paid to do that.”

Ben wrinkles his nose. “God, you’re such a suit.” Then he laughs and says, “I’m kidding, Billy, you’re so cool, can Tuan and I take Tommy for a walk?”

“Be careful,” Billy cautions them, handing over the leash. “Tommy, don’t get my brother in trouble.”

Tommy bumps his head against Billy’s leg and then takes off after Ben’s whistle towards the front door.

“Ah,” Billy sighs, letting his head drop against the back of the couch. “Quiet.”

“Nope!” his father announces cheerfully, appearing before them with glasses of wine. “Keeping it lively. Hey, where’s your brother?”

Billy says, “I think Jordan’s in his room.” His father always refers to Jordan as “your brother”, and to Ben as, “the boy.” Billy, being the elevated firstborn, gets the honor of being addressed by his actual name.

“Did you bring him a present?”

Billy sits up and grabs his glass of wine. “Yeah, I had it shipped here last week. I think Mom said she wrapped it.”

His dad’s eyes widen. “Is it that remote-control helicopter?”

“…Maybe.”

“Damnit! I was hoping your mom bought that to surprise me.”

Billy laughs. “Sorry, Dad. I’m sure if you’re nice to him, he’ll let you have a turn. What’d you get him?”

“Knicks tickets, for him and Rachel.”

“Nice,” Billy nods. “And you, I assume.”

“Obviously. _But_ ,” he holds up a finger. “They’re a good six rows in front of me. I gave them the rockin’ seats.”

“That’s very big of you, Dad.”

“I’m getting soft in my old age,” he agrees, straightening up again. “Do you remember what we got you for your sixteenth birthday?”

“Don’t,” he warns, but Teddy’s already leaning forward in interest.

Jeff turns to Teddy and continues, “So you might know this, but Billy has sort of a thing for musicals.”

“I didn’t know it was a full-fledged ‘thing’,” Teddy grins, leaning back and giving Billy an appraising look. “He’s mentioned _The Sound of Music_ once or twice, but that’s it.”

His dad laughs. “Only twice? He must be really holding back. You know, when he was eight, they did a summer camp production – ”

“You _can’t_ ,” Billy interrupts, throwing his hand up. “No, I’m drawing the line.”

“Later,” Jeff stage whispers with a wink. “There’s video footage. It’s pretty darn cute.”

Teddy gives a short nod, and then says, “So, Billy’s sixteenth birthday.”

“Right. Well, Billy had some history paper, they had the kids pick a local topic.”

“Historic landmarks of New York,” Billy mutters, shrinking into the couch cushions.

“That’s right. So, Billy does his paper on the Gershwin Theater. Named, of course, for the Gershwin brothers.”

“Right, yeah, I know it,” Teddy says. “Big Broadway one.”

Billy groans.

“And for _weeks_ ,” Jeff pauses for emphasis, “we’re hearing about, ‘oh, did you know _Meet Me In St. Louis_ premiered at the Gershwin’, and ‘Angela Lansbury’s debut in _Sneezy Bob_ ’ – ”

“ _Sweeny Todd_ ,” Billy corrects him, rolling his eyes. “Ben called it that when he was _four_.”

“Hush, you. Anyways, a little production you might’ve heard of called _Wicked_ had started up the year before, our son of course wouldn’t shut up about it, on top of everything, so we arranged a little surprise for his birthday.” His dad rubs his hands together, beaming, and Billy can’t fight the surge of affection that runs through him.

He flops back dramatically on the couch, cheeks burning. “Oh, go on.”

“Three tickets. Opening night. Fifth row, dead center,” Jeff says with a flourish, clapping his hands on his knees. “Thought he was having a stroke when we got out of the cab.”

“It was amazing,” Billy sighs. “Best night of my life.”

“What if they did a _Sound of Music_ revival at the Gershwin?” Teddy teases. 

Billy adjusts his slouch so that he can glare at Teddy. “Don’t even joke.”

“Jeff, the oven’s about done!” Rebecca calls from the kitchen.

“Perfect,” his father says, standing up. “You boys good with dinner in about twenty?”

Billy gives his dad a thumbs-up, and Teddy says, “Awesome.”

There’s a comfortable silence when his dad leaves, and Billy and Teddy both sip their wine, relaxing on the worn brown leather of the sofa. After a moment, Billy decides to turn the TV on, settling on a Knicks game he has no intention of really watching.

Teddy, it seems, doesn’t either. He considers the screen for a few moments, and then settles back with his arm stretched along the back of the couch, in such a way that Billy’s head could knock against his fingertips if he let it. Their eyes meet, and Teddy’s expression is soft, so earnestly content that Billy can’t help but feel it himself.

Naturally, he decides to ruin it by saying, “So…you’re gay.”

Teddy bursts out laughing and nods, biting his lip and looking down at his lap. “Yeah…you really didn’t know?”

“How was I supposed to know?” Billy mutters, glancing back at the kitchen to make sure his parents aren’t listening. “You never said anything about like, a boyfriend – wait a minute.” Something horrible occurs to him. “ _Greg_ isn’t – ”

“No,” Teddy says abruptly. “No, never. Greg’s straight. He’s actually – well, part of the reason I don’t talk about it as much is because he’s never been all that…interested. In hearing about it.”

“Interested,” Billy repeats. “Aren’t you guys supposed to be best friends?”

Teddy flushes, and Billy mentally kicks himself. That was harsh. “I’m sorry,’ he says quickly. “I didn’t mean – I just – yeah.”

“No, you’re right.” Teddy shifts and pulls his arm off the couch and into his lap. “You know, Greg was cool, when we were kids. His mom used to work the graveyard shift at Harlem Hospital, and my mom worked evenings, so I always went to his house after school, and then he’d sleep over at night.” He doesn’t look up from his hands, intent, it seems, on shredding a hangnail off the side of his thumb. Billy’s fingertips bite into his jeans as he fights the urge to reach out, and he realizes suddenly what it is that he’s feeling – protectiveness.

Teddy rehabs fighting dogs and Billy gets beat up by his Neo-Nazi neighbor, and _Billy’s_ the one feeling protective over _him_. That’s interesting.

“We sort of grew apart in high school – that’s when he started acting all douchey, and I was more into the art crowd, or the hippies, whatever,” Teddy goes on. “I didn’t talk to him at all for like, five years. Then my mom got sick, and I sort of just…lost touch with everyone. But Greg started coming around more, ‘cause our moms were close and all.” His thumb is starting to bleed, and Billy can’t help it. His hand jerks out and touches Teddy’s wrist, feather-light, only for a second, but it seems to startle Teddy out of his incessant picking.

“Sorry,” Billy mumbles.

Teddy stares at him, and Billy can’t seem to get enough oxygen to his lungs.

“It’s okay.”

From down the hall, they hear Rachel shout, “In your _face_!”

“Anyways.” Teddy shakes his head, like he’s trying to clear it. “Greg was – I guess there for me, in his own way. He wouldn’t let me hole up in my house, after she died. Probably wasn’t totally for my benefit, but.” He shrugs. “It worked out. I got connected with Luke and Jess, got the job at the shelter, helped Greg hit on girls at the bars.”

Billy shakes his head. “But – ”

“It was something to do, okay?” Teddy sounds a little defensive now. “Look, I mean, I get it, but you don’t – you don’t know, Billy. I was _surviving_.”

Billy shuts his mouth.

“I realized I needed to find new friends after the whole thing with Nate, though. That was a wake up call.”

 _My buddy swore up and down he was just a nice guy looking for a dog, but_. “Wait,” Billy says slowly. “Greg was – with the fights?”

“He says he didn’t know,” Teddy says hollowly, eyes drifting towards the television. “Don’t know if I believe him. Don’t care, really. The damage is done.” He takes a long sip of wine. “Sorry, jeez, I always unload on you.”

Billy’s glad he’s also in the middle of taking a sip, because God only knows what’d come out of his mouth if not for the second he’s forced to take to think about it. “No, man,” he says firmly. “You should. I’m by no means an expert, but I’m pretty sure that’s what friends are _supposed_ to do.”

He’s rewarded with the quirk of Teddy’s smile, the divot of a dimple in his cheek, and the wine-warmth filling his stomach spreads all over. He thinks, _wow, I’m in love with you_ , and is filled with the sudden urge to do something crazy, like jump on top of Teddy and kiss him, or run straight through the glass windows and plunge to his death.

He glances dubiously down at his wine glass. “What proof is this?”

Teddy frowns. “Uh, fourteen? Why?” He grins. “You’re feeling it, huh.” It’s not a question, and Billy manages to glower at him for half a second before his own grin breaks out across his face, cued by Teddy’s.

“I think I just forgot to eat today.”

“Or you’re just a li-ight-weight,” Teddy sings. “Hey, Billy, you know how I know you’re a party animal?”

“Screw you,” Billy laughs. “What was it you said – you hung out with the ‘art crowd’ in high school?” He mimes putting a joint to his lips. “Uh-huh.”

Teddy folds over and laughs, and Billy feels ridiculously pleased with himself.

The front door opens and he suddenly hears peals of laughter mixed with a familiar whining sound, and calls, “Tommy! Tommy, c’mere!”

Tommy barks, but he doesn’t come. “Billy?” Ben asks, voice shaking with mirth. “Uh…we need help.”

Billy drains his wine glass and gets to his feet. “It’s really not that complicated – oh.” Apparently, it is. They’ve somehow got the leash tangled around two of Tommy’s legs, backwards through his harness, and – “how did you even _do_ this?” he asks, unclipping the leash and tugging it through the turtleneck of Tommy’s sweater.

Ben shrugs helplessly, still laughing. “We were running?”

“This doesn’t happen when I run with Tommy,” he says doubtfully, and finally finishes disentangling his dog, who leaps into his lap and licks a long stripe from his chin to his forehead. “Aw, I missed you too, buddy.”

Ben says, “He ate part of a dead pigeon outside.”

“Right. Well, I’m just gonna go light my face on fire. Nice knowing you guys.”

“Oh my God, Billy, you are _not_ ,” Ben groans.

Billy fights the urge to reach over and ruffle his shaggy hair. “I’m sorry, is my razor-sharp wit embarrassing you?” He raises an eyebrow at Tuan. “I went to high school with your sister, so I _know_ you’ve seen worse.” 

Tuan grimaces. “You have no idea.”

“Are you staying for dinner?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, I gotta go home soon. I’ve been here all day; me and Ben were having a _Transformers_ marathon.”

Billy wrinkles his nose. “Ugh, I’m sorry to hear that. The last two were horrible.”

“Dude, Megan _Fox_ ,” Ben argues, and Tuan nods seriously. “Even you have to appreciate that.”

“I will raise you a Josh Duhamel and a Tyrese Gibson, and still maintain that the sequels were unwatchable.”

“ _You’re_ unwatchable,” his brother retorts, but he’s smiling, and Billy can see the quiet thrill he’s getting at being able to verbally spar with his big brother. It’s almost too endearing.

Fortunately, Tommy picks that moment to let out another toxic fart, and they all hurry out of the entryway, gagging. Tuan says, “Wow, he’s definitely a Kaplan.”

Billy laughs. “We couldn’t be prouder.” Then he stops in his tracks, because Teddy’s not on the couch anymore, which can only mean – 

“I know! Born with a full head of hair, my little grown-up baby,” his mom’s voice carries out from the kitchen,

Oh, _no_.

Ben sees his look of horror and says, “Dude, are you sure Teddy’s not your boyfriend?”

Billy says, “Honestly, I don’t even know anymore,” and follows Tommy apprehensively into the kitchen.

Teddy grins at him hugely from the table where he’s seated next to Billy’s mother, a photo album open between them. Oh, she brought out the _albums_. This is an absolute disaster.

“Billy, Ben, can you two set the table?” Jeff asks. “We’re just about ready here.”

Billy takes a stack of plates stiffly and sets them out, caught between straining to listen and not wanting to hear whatever his mother is telling Teddy.

“And this is his first Halloween, Jeff’s mother actually made that pork chop costume,” Rebecca is saying.

“It’s really realistic.” Teddy sounds impressed. 

Billy waits for his dad to chime in, and he isn’t disappointed. “Not exactly kosher,” he jokes, and his mother laughs like she hasn’t heard it a hundred times before.

“Whoa, hold up,” Teddy says suddenly, suppressing a laugh. Dread curls in the pit of Billy’s stomach. “What are these from?”

“Oh, this is Billy’s bar mitzvah,” Rebecca says fondly.

Billy trips over Tommy in his rush to intervene and almost winds up sprawled on the floor. “Mom, Teddy doesn’t want to see those, _no one_ wants to see those, they are actually super unique in that no one in the history of time has _ever_ wanted to see them.”

She says, “Oh, honestly, they’re not _that_ bad.”

Teddy’s look of barely hidden amusement says otherwise. Jeff peers over his shoulder and says, “Oh, yeah. That’s my side of the family, I’m afraid. We’re all ears and teeth up through high school.” He straightens and gives his wife a dashing smile. “But damn if we don’t grow up handsome after that.”

She smiles back at him. “You certainly do.” 

Billy feels Teddy’s eyes on him and swallows, trying not to let his embarrassment show. Why he ever thought bringing _Teddy_ over to meet his family was a good idea, he’ll never know. Probably some kind of psychotic break is to blame.

Then the oven beeps, and Tommy perks up from where he’s stretched out on the floor, and Jeff points to Billy and says, “Will you drag your brother and Rachel away from the Xbox?” 

Tuan says his goodbyes, including a big hug for Tommy, and they all find their places around the dining room table. Billy’s sandwiched between Teddy and Jordan, who’s proudly wearing a Viking helmet with the words “ _Birthday Boy!_ ” written in green glitter across the front.

Their father passes him the first plate piled high with steaming meat and says, “Nice hat.”

Jordan grins. “Rachel made it for me. I think it really brings out my eyes.”

“Hey Rachel, how come you didn’t make me a hat for _my_ birthday?” Billy asks, feigning offense. “I thought we were buds.”

Rachel giggles into her sparkling water. “You’ll get two hats next year,” she promises.

“I guess I can live with that.”

“This is delicious, Jeff,” Teddy says. “And Rebecca,” he adds, quickly shoveling in a bite of neglected roasted vegetables.

His parents share a warm look, and Jeff says, “It is one of my better briskets, I think.”

“You nailed the sauce, sweetie,” his wife affirms. “The brown sugar is just right.”

“I thought it tasted a little sweeter,” Billy nods, chewing experimentally. “Where’d you get this recipe?”

Jeff looks determinedly off to the side, and scratches his head. “Uh, I don’t really remember – ”

“The TV at the nurse’s station’s been on _Food Network_ nonstop for the past three weeks,” Rebecca interrupts. “He saw it on _Rachael Ray_.”

Billy gives his father an incredulous look, and he sniffs. “I will neither confirm nor deny that Rachael provided…inspiration.”

Jordan whistles. “Wow, first name basis already. Next step is Best Friend necklaces, right?”

Jeff raises an eyebrow. “Might want to hold off on the sass until _after_ we’ve given you your birthday present, son.”

Jordan stuffs an enormous bite of brisket into his mouth and doesn’t say another word. Under the table, Billy feels Tommy shift from where he’s lain down, head resting on Billy’s foot. He looks across from him and sees Ben’s arm stretched down behind the table at a suspicious angle.

“Ben, are you feeding my dog?”

Ben jerks up and looks guiltily around. “No.”

“Liar.”

“It was just a tiny piece.” His eyes widen with worry and he looks to Teddy. “It won’t make him sick, will it?”

Teddy shakes his head, chews, and swallows. “He’s a dog. They can digest most things. Tommy, especially.”

“I should know; he’s digested most of my apartment,” Billy adds dryly. “And for some reason, I’m still coughing up fifty bucks for not even a month’s supply of dog food. Sweet potato and bison formula.” He shakes his head. “Dog eats better than I do.”

Teddy laughs. “See, now you’re getting it.”

“So, Teddy,” Rebecca begins, “How long have you been working at the shelter?” It’s an innocent-enough question, but to Billy’s trained ear, it sounds suspiciously like his mother is about to psychoanalyze Teddy’s life choices.

Teddy glances at him nervously, like he can hear it too. “Just over a year.”

“And you’re a manager?”

“Pretty much. My official title is ‘Animal Care and Training Specialist’, but yeah, I’m basically just a manager.”

“Not ‘just’,” Billy protests, shooting his mother a look. “Teddy _runs_ the whole place of some thirty animals. He lives there, for crying out loud.” 

Teddy bumps their knees together under the table, and he chances a glance over to see a pleased sort of flush creeping up Teddy’s neck and into his cheeks. He wobbles a little in his seat. _Please don’t make me have a swooning fit in front of my family_.

“So after management, where does that take you?” his mother continues. “Are there higher-up positions in the shelter? Perhaps you’d go to work for the SPCA, or some larger organization?”

“Um,” Teddy runs a hand absently over his hair, looking and sounding a little overwhelmed. “To be perfectly honest, I’m not sure. Maybe I’d go back to school?”

“You could study Animal Sciences,” Billy’s father suggests, and Teddy nods politely, but Billy sees how his shoulders sag in a helpless way that reminds him of the way he said, _I was surviving_.

He looks at his mother and notices that she’s got a pucker between her brows, the smallest of lines that means she’s probably reading his body language as well. Then she sees Billy watching her, and her expression instantly smoothes. “And how’s work going for you, honey? I haven’t heard much since you told us you helped win that big account.”

Billy swallows his wine too fast and coughs, stilling only when Teddy’s palm comes to rest between his shoulderblades. “It’s great, actually.” He clears his throat. “I’m writing a series of concepts now called ‘Super Hero Behavior’, like a do’s and don’ts of insurance kinda thing. Jesse’s doing the graphics.”

“You should do an ad where like, Batman calls in a claim after he gets the Batmobile in a fender-bender,” Jordan says through a mouthful of potatoes. “That would be awesome.”

“I’m pretty sure we’d get sued for copyright infringement, but I’ll take it under advisement,” Billy tells him.

“And then give me royalties, because it was my idea,” his brother adds.

Ben says, “You should insure Optimus Prime!”

“Okay, but I don’t actually do the insurance, I’m just writing copy for the agency – ”

“You should get Megan Fox to be in your commercials!”

“We don’t – ”

“Dude, she’s _pregnant_ now.” Jordan says it like it’s a dirty word. “Come on, she hasn’t been cool since like, 2009. It’s all about Emma Watson.”

No one gets a word in edgewise for about ten minutes as Ben and Jordan debate furiously over whether Emma Watson is, in fact, hotter than Megan Fox, and then over whether Hermione could defeat Megatron in battle. Teddy laughs uproariously next to Billy, who for his part, grins until his face hurts. His father keeps filling their wine glasses and rattling off long Italian names he won’t for the life of him remember, and Tommy’s given up on begging for scraps and settled himself snugly in front of the fire, and at one point, Teddy slides his hand from his own knee over to Billy’s, squeezing once, and it’s a friendly gesture, there’s no way he means it as anything more than that, but under the haze of wine, it’s easier to think that _maybe_ it means something, so Billy lets himself float in the clouds a little, lets his pants get uncomfortably tight for a moment. It’s not like he can do anything too stupid in front of his family – it’s harmless, in theory.

Of course, as soon as they get up to clear the plates, he feels like something’s being torn away from him, the downside of indulgence, he realizes. The Return to Reality. It’s still nice, though. Jordan insists on opening presents before cleanup, and is extremely enthusiastic about his remote control helicopter.

“Oh man, I’ve always wanted one of these!” he cries, holding the package out excitedly. “F-heck yes! Billy, thanks so much!”

He’s flying it around the living room with his father and Rachel when Billy goes to help his mother with the dishes.

“Oh, thank you, honey,” she sighs. She frowns at something over his shoulder, and he turns to see Teddy reaching for the stack of dirty plates. “Teddy, you’re a guest,” she says firmly. “Go relax. Billy and I will finish up in here, and then we’ll have cake.”

He looks like he’s going to protest, but Billy shakes his head wordlessly, and he caves. “Okay.” With one last glance at Billy, he heads back into the living room, leaving Billy inexplicably warm all the way to his toes.

They’re halfway through the dishes when his mother passes him a tray to dry and says, “You know, that boy’s in love with you.”

The tray clatters down onto the countertop. “ _What_?”

She raises an eyebrow at him.

“Mom – just – _no_ , okay?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” She pushes his hair back and smiles gently. “It’s all right. I’m sure you two will work it out.”

He sucks in a breath to argue, but she hands him a wine glass to towel off, and doesn’t say anything else about it. Probably because she knows she’s triggered a small aneurysm by even _suggesting_ – he can’t think about it.

It’s completely crazy, is what it is.

Not that Rebecca Kaplan is ever wrong about these things, but there’s always a first time, and the woman’s already well into her fifties, it could just be the onset of senility.

He moves unconsciously to stand in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen, towel working over the stemware. Ben is curled up with Tommy in his lap on a beanbag, his Gameboy barely six inches from his face, Jordan is making the helicopter chase Rachel, and Teddy – Teddy’s leaning back against the arm of the sofa, hands in his pockets, the picture of happiness. His eyes flick to Billy’s, and a shiver runs down Billy’s spine.

 _Is it possible_?

No, of course it’s not. Teddy’s not a dog, he’s not gonna fall into the lap of the first halfway-decent person to show interest in him. Teddy deserves someone perfect – someone like him, selfless, dedicated. Teddy deserves a superhero.

Billy, he reminds himself, just writes the copy.

***

One short cab ride later, after they’ve been stuffed full of wine and cake and more wine, and the cab driver’s made what he surely imagines to be a clever remark about Tommy’s sweater, they’re outside Billy’s building, and Billy hears himself ask Teddy if he wants to come up.

Teddy says, “Yeah, okay.”

Tommy walks right past the bushes he normally does his business in sleepily, and then they’re in the elevator, and Billy’s hovering on the edge of drunk, but plenty buzzed, and he’s extremely worried about how that’s going to affect his judgment when they’re alone in his apartment.

He chooses to focus on Tommy instead, on the way he sinks to the floor and rests his head on his paws when Billy fumbles with his keys, instead of the way Teddy’s standing close to him, probably close enough to hear his heart pounding in his chest. When they’re finally inside, he thanks every higher power he can think of that he actually bothered to make his bed and put his dirty clothes in the hamper that morning, getting away from the “dorm room” theme he had going on. Tommy doesn’t even bother jumping up onto the bed, just collapses on the rug next to it with a sigh, shoving his nose in Billy’s slipper.

“Nice,” Teddy approves, glancing around. “I dig your style.”

“I don’t have style,” Billy laughs. “My mom picked most of this out.” He slaps a hand over his forehead. “Wow, that is just – that is uncool.”

“Hey, my mom picked all my furniture too,” Teddy shrugs, and he’s grinning, but it makes Billy feel profoundly sad.

He says, “Um, do you want a glass of wine?”

It’s probably a terrible idea, and Teddy’s face says he probably thinks so, too. “I shouldn’t…” he starts, “But, sure.”

Billy hesitates. “Will you be okay to get home?”

“I’ll be fine,” Teddy assures him. “I’m not that drunk.”

“Cool. This is probably shit compared to what my dad was giving us, so, sorry.” He pours them each a glass of some Washington Chardonnay he picked up on sale the week before.

“Hey, like I said, zero wine knowledge,” Teddy smirks, taking the glass from him. “You could’ve told me it was some crazy rare shit from the moon worth a billion dollars and I’d probably believe you.”

Billy laughs and clinks their glasses together. “Next time, I’ll definitely bust out the space wine.”

“Awesome.”

Tommy snores loudly, and they both look over at him, the resulting silence somehow at odds with the brightness of the room. Billy feels uneasy all of a sudden.

“It was cool of you to come tonight,” he says after a moment. “I know my family is kind of – a lot, at times. But they really like you. And, um.”

“No, I’m really – I had a really good time,” Teddy replies, nodding and taking a step closer. “Your family’s great, Billy.” He smiles and drains half his glass. “You’re lucky.”

“I guess,” Billy mutters.

“I’m – ” Teddy pauses, and blushes a little bit. Billy’s hand tightens around his glass. “I’m really glad we met.”

Billy bites his lip. “Sure you’re not drunk?”

Teddy’s eyes follow the track his teeth are making, and he says, “Maybe a little.”

 _Oh, God_.

“I’m glad we met, too,” he manages to say, and it comes out as almost a whisper.

Teddy cocks his head to the side. “You’re still wearing your coat and scarf.”

Billy looks down at himself. “Uh…yes.”

“We’re inside.”

He swallows. “Well, you’re still wearing yours too.”

Teddy says, “Yeah, but,” and then he’s moving into Billy’s space, and Billy’s lungs stop working.

He watches Teddy tip his glass back and drink the last of its contents, his eyes never leaving Billy’s as he does. His arm goes over Billy’s shoulder to set the glass down, and then he takes a deep breath and steps forward, feet even with Billy’s, eye contact still unbroken.

Billy tries very hard to think of a single place this could be headed that isn’t where he desperately wants it to go.

Teddy’s hands come up to touch the ends of his scarf, and then it’s being tugged slowly around his neck. Billy’s skin is _alive_ , his stomach is buzzing, he can feel Teddy’s breath on his face, they’re _so close_. Teddy’s still working his scarf from around his neck, steady and gentle, and Billy can taste the air that’s coming from between his parted lips, he wants to taste _Teddy_ , wants to so _bad_ – 

_Fuck it_. His hands come up from where they’re hanging limply at his sides and he closes his fingers slowly around Teddy’s wrists, feels Teddy’s sharp inhale like the physical pull of gravity, leans in – 

A blur of white, a scrambling sound, and Tommy is forcing himself between them, barking so loudly that they jolt apart in surprise, and Billy lets out a startled noise of his own. Tommy jumps up on his hind legs and paws at Billy’s thigh, whining and yelping, then runs to the door, anxiety etched on his face.

Billy knows that look. It’s the _you-have-three-seconds-to-take-me-outside-or-I’m gonna-go-right-here-on-the-floor_ look. “Um.” He drags a hand down the side of his face and gazes at Teddy, wide-eyed. “I should probably take him outside, or I’m gonna be cleaning up a puddle.”

Teddy nods rapidly, pulling his coat tighter around him. “No, it’s fine. I should – I should probably head back anyways.”

Billy says, “Oh, yeah,” trying not to sound as crushed as he feels. “It’s late, and all.”

“We have an adoption event tomorrow,” Teddy explains.

“Totally. Uh, let me just find his leash.” He grabs it off the floor and almost walks out without his keys, remembering them at the last second. They don’t say a word in the elevator, and once they’re outside, Tommy rushes over to the nearest patch of dirt, not even bothering to lift his leg, just letting it all out.

“I think the brisket must’ve made him thirsty,” Billy says, and he instantly thinks it’s the dumbest thing he could’ve possibly picked to say.

“Billy – ”

“Don’t,” he pleads, quietly. “It’s – it’s fine, okay? I swear.”

Teddy stares at him for several seconds, then stuffs his hands in his coat pockets and takes a step back. “Sure. We’re good?”

“We’re perfect,” Billy replies, swallowing the lump in his throat. “It was just – just too much wine, you don’t have to worry.”

There’s a flash of a frown on Teddy’s face, and then he smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Cool. So, I’m gonna head home.”

Billy nods. “I’ll, uh, see you Monday.”

 _Now_ the smile reaches Teddy’s eyes. “Absolutely. See you Monday.”

When he’s well out of earshot, Billy looks down at Tommy and says, “I can’t decide whether or not I hate you right now.”

Tommy whines and noses at his leg. “Yeah, yeah, okay. Let’s go to bed, buddy. Might as well not put this hangover off any longer.”

He takes a long, hot shower, partly so he can jerk off twice, partly so he can hopefully avoid waking up in a pool of his own wine-sweat in the morning. It’s not any different than how he imagined the night ending, back when it started, but now, it makes him feel hollow and miserable.

 _That boy’s in love with you_.

Okay, that might be a little extreme, but there’s _something_ between them, something that’s more than platonic. An attraction. _Maybe_ – well, they’ve got time. His chest is trying to tell him that he’s blown his only chance, but realistically, Teddy’s still in his life, there will be other chances, right? This could still happen.

And the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes it’s probably good that it didn’t happen like this. If it’s ever going to, they shouldn’t be drunk, first of all. He knows how that goes. _I never do this; I must’ve been shitfaced; I don’t even remember it_. If there’s an excuse, he’s heard it, and he doesn’t think he could bear to hear it from Teddy. 

“Okay, Tommy,” he mutters, and his dog stirs next to him at the sound of his name. “You win this time.”

Tommy whuffs softly, and Billy buries his face in the soft fur of his neck. God, he loves this dog. This stupid, adorable, cockblocking, dead-pigeon-eating pitbull.

If Billy gets nothing else out of his relationship with Teddy, at least he got Tommy. Nothing, he thinks as he drifts off, could really top that anyways.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: I've had the flu for the past several days, complete with fever, and although I've proofread this several times, there's still the possibility that it just says "ferrets" over and over again, so if that's the case, sorry. blame small children and their disease-spreading ways.

When Cap greets Billy and Tommy at the entrance to the shelter the following Monday with his usual doggie pleasantries, Billy has a whole plan for how his conversation with Teddy is going to go. It’ll probably be a little awkward, seeing each other, and Billy’s going to be the one to man the hell up and just say _Look, it’s possible that I have a little crush here, and we were both definitely not at full decision-making capacity the other night, so if you want we can just chalk it up to that and never speak of it again, because I really care about our friendship and I don’t want to screw things up_. It’s a good speech, he should know, he practiced it backwards and forwards a hundred times on the walk over there.

He’s made room for the possibility that their attraction is mutual; that it’s something Teddy might want to act on outside the blurry confines of inebriation, but that’s where the “ _if you want_ ” comes in. He’s not allowing himself to even subconsciously entertain the idea his mother had to go and put in his head – that’s out of the question. Teddy might be lonely and horny, Billy’s not totally awful to look at – yeah, it’s possible Teddy wants on.

And yes, it would be emotional suicide to attempt to do the casual sex thing with Teddy, but Billy’s pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to resist, if that’s what Teddy wanted. He perversely almost hopes it is, because the other option is Teddy wanting nothing to do with him, and that’s not something he thinks he can face.

He straightens his tie and pushes in through the door, assisted by a blast of wind, ready to lay it all out. What he doesn’t expect is to see Teddy scuttling around on the floor on his hands and knees, with Carol and Logan trailing curiously after him.

The door slams behind him and he says, “Um.”

“Oh!” Teddy’s head jerks up. “Hey, sorry.” He doesn’t stand up, and Billy’s not sure he can have the “ _we’re adults_ ” conversation with Teddy when he’s crawling around on all fours peering under desks like a toddler playing hide-and-seek.

“What…are you doing?”

Teddy laughs sheepishly and pushes his hair back. “You’re not gonna believe it, but, uh, Namor escaped.”

Billy blinks. “The turtle?”

“Yep.”

“…Escaped?”

“Yeah, man. I came down this morning and the lid to his terrarium was off; can’t find him anywhere.”

“Do you think somebody…” he pauses, unsure how to put it delicately, “like, ate him?”

“Well, if they did, I figure I’d find the shell somewhere. And I watched the dogs when I let them out this morning, no one was burying it.” He shrugs. “I wish I could say this is the weirdest thing that’s happened here. He’ll turn up. I hope.”

Billy says, “Wow.”

Teddy shakes his head. “No shit.” He allows Logan to nose his way under his arm and scratches him roughly behind the ears. “How was the rest of your weekend?”

This is the time, Billy realizes, to launch into his speech, but he suddenly can’t remember anything he was going to say. Teddy looks so perfectly at ease, despite being out a reptile, sitting on the floor with two furry dogs vying for his attention, for all the world like he’s forgotten about the events between them on Saturday, or at least made his peace with them. It’s not awkward at all, not like Billy was expecting. 

“Um, it was fine,” he manages to say. “Kinda hungover, you know.” _Because of Saturday, remember, we got boozy and we almost kissed, you were in my apartment, I didn’t imagine it, you were about to kiss me_. 

“Oh, yeah,” Teddy grins. “Well you know, the best hangover cure is Mike’s Chili Cheese Fries. With a side of Tabasco.”

Billy groans. “Don’t even talk like that; I’m not in college anymore. My internal organs can’t take that kind of punishment.”

Teddy holds up his hands. “I’m just saying, I had to look alive on Sunday.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot. How was the adoption thing?”

“Pretty good,” Teddy nods. “Murdock and Parker got adopted, same with Thor. I’m sure he’ll be back, though. Somebody always takes him home from these things.”

Billy laughs. Since he’s been spending most of his free time at the shelter with Teddy, he’s seen Thor come and go once already. Within a twenty-four hour period, no less. It seemed he’d wasted no time shredding five of his prospective owner’s favorite, most expensive pairs of designer heels.

“Oh, and Miles got adopted too.” Teddy grins again, like it’s some kind of inside joke, and Billy finds it impossible not to grin back. 

“Yeah?”

Teddy inclines his head toward the desk in the back, where Fury the cat is dozing in his basket. A closer look has Billy’s heart clenching in his chest, because curled up next to Fury is the unmistakable tiny black shape of Miles, all ears and paws and overlong limbs. “Jess and Luke decided to add him to the family. Well, Fury kinda decided for them, so.” Teddy beams. “I think that placement’ll stick.”

“That’s awesome,” Billy says, and he means it. 

They talk a little more about the event, and Teddy tells him about some cool donations that they got, including some Costco dog beds that were sorely needed “because _some_ dogs keep ripping the beds up,” Teddy adds with a pointed look at Tommy and another at Logan, and it’s all very comfortable, and Billy conveniently forgets to work his big speech into the conversation before it’s too late and he has to go to work. He tells himself he’ll bring it up later, but he doesn’t, not when Teddy texts him to tell him Namor turned up in Cap’s water dish, not during Tommy’s training session, not even after he helps Teddy feed everybody and they go out for pizza and beers.

It doesn’t feel like Teddy’s avoiding the subject, not exactly, but he does notice that the one time he brings up something that Jordan said on Saturday, Teddy’s eyes dart downward and he makes a vague sort of acknowledging comment before changing gears and asking Billy what his favorite Syfy Original Movie is.

“Got to be _Rock Monster_ ,” Billy says without hesitation. “I swear, I’ll never get tired of the old ‘danger: falling rocks’ shtick.”

Teddy laughs. “ _Rock Monster_ ’s in my top ten, but no way it compares to _Tremors 4_. Or _Swamp Shark_ , honestly.” 

Billy is aghast. “Only your top _ten_? God, it’s like I don’t even know you.”

“Dude, _Tremors 4_ is a classic. It combines old-timey prospectors and man-eating worms, I don’t see how you can top that.”

“Dude, I hear you, but _Rock Monster_ has freaking _Excalibur_.”

At this point, the bartender, a short, buxom girl who probably looks older than she is, leans over the bar and says, “You guys are clearly forgetting the greatest Syfy movie of all time; _Dinocroc_.” She gives them a meaningful look and slides their beers over.

Billy raises an eyebrow at Teddy. “Did you like _Dinocroc_?”

Teddy shrugs and swallows a large sip of beer. “ _Supergator_ was much better.”

“ _Right_? Thank God, I’m glad it’s not just me.”

The banter continues that way, friendly and familiar, and Billy is half-convinced he’s the only one who feels like they’re skirting around the edge of something. On Wednesday it’s the same – easy laughs over whether Christopher Nolan ever even bothered to pick up a Batman comic book; how the entire _Alien_ franchise could’ve been avoided if a single crew member had seen fit to listen to Ripley, the religious experience they both went through upon seeing _Deathly Hallows II_ for the first time. It shouldn’t leave a funny feeling in the pit of Billy’s stomach when Teddy hands him Tommy’s leash at the end of the evening and waves goodbye, or even when they all walk back to Billy’s together and Teddy leans on the wall outside Billy’s stoop like it’s as close as he wants to get, but it does all the same, especially since Teddy seems so utterly _oblivious_. Contrary to putting Billy’s mind at ease, he’s fairly sure he’s starting to go a little bit crazy.

When he gets home on Wednesday evening, he’s sweating from his, in hindsight, ill-formed decision to take the stairs with Tommy, to wear them both out a little bit more. He needs to sleep tonight, not stay up stressing over Teddy. It’s not healthy.

Unfortunately, one look at his door tells him that peaceful slumber isn’t going to be an option. Bright red, dripping letters have been spray-painted across the slate-grey wood, and he feels their message like a physical blow, a jeer that makes him duck his head on instinct.

 _FAG_.

Next to him, Tommy whimpers, and Billy pulls out his phone to snap a picture (evidence, evidence, evidence – something he wishes he’d never had to learn in high school) and then somehow, he finds his thumb hovering over the little _Teddy_ icon in his contact list. He won’t be more than a couple blocks away by now – it would be easy, really, for him to double back, and Billy knows he would, knows he’d come running in a heartbeat if Billy called him right now and told him what’d happened.

Which is precisely the reason he pockets his phone and pulls out his keys instead, unlocking the door and putting the ugly word behind them. He’s not going to exploit Teddy’s goodness, not going to let anything happen between them on the basis of Teddy feeling _sorry_ for him. That’s just a disaster waiting to happen.

***

On Thursday, his super has managed to paint over the slur, but there’s a pile of garbage sitting outside his door, and it smells like someone peed on it. The super leaves Billy to clean that one up for himself, and as he’s hauling the two bags of refuse into the alley with rubber gloves on, he gets a smirk from Kessler, who’s on his way in.

Not that Billy had any doubts about who was going out of their way to make his life miserable, but it still makes his skin crawl. He can’t prove anything, and Kessler knows it. He knows how these things go. This is only the beginning.

***

On Friday at three thirty AM, someone bangs on Billy’s door so hard he’s jolted awake, and Tommy flies out of the bed to bark viciously at the door. The banging only goes on for a few seconds, but it’s nearly two hours before Tommy is settled enough to fall back asleep, and Billy stays sitting in bed, eyes wide open, thoughts racing, until it’s time to drop his dog off and go to work.

“You okay?” Teddy asks, frowning a little as Billy yawns for the fourth or fifth time.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Billy replies in what he suspects is an unconvincing tone. He’s almost too tired to care. “Uh, if it’s okay, I was thinking about maybe starting to board Tommy here five days a week, instead of just the three.”

“Of course, it’s no problem,” Teddy says quickly. “Is he getting too restless at your place?”

“Yeah,” Billy says again, and this time he knows Teddy doesn’t believe him at all. “Well, sort of – I just don’t want him to be alone all day. I’m worried about him.”

It’s the truth, actually. He hasn’t forgotten Kessler’s threats towards Tommy, doesn’t want to know how far he’ll go in his crusade against Billy. Better not to underestimate him, not to take any chances.

“Worried about him…getting lonely?” Teddy presses, like he knows Billy’s not telling him something.

Billy sighs. “Just…worried.”

“Billy, what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing,” he says, shaking his head. “Look, I’ve got to go to work, but – ”

“You can tell me later,” Teddy says firmly, straightening up. Something curls in Billy’s chest, a mixture of desire and dread. “We’re still hanging out, right?”

Billy nods tightly.

“Cool. I think they’re doing live music down at Our Place tonight. Want to maybe check it out?”

Our Place is a gay bar that got popular enough to hardly be considered a gay bar anymore, or at least, no more a gay bar than any other popular singles bar in Manhattan. Billy’s had mixed experiences there, but the music’s consistently good, and it might be just what he needs to get his mind off things. He says “All right, sounds good,” and then he really does have to go to work.

Because the universe hates him, he misses his train by a fraction of a second and ends up being ten minutes late, which wouldn’t be a huge deal, except that he and Jesse were supposed to go over mockups for potential bus ads at nine AM exactly so that they could present them together at their nine-fifteen meeting.

“It’s fine,” Jesse assures him, once the meeting is over and Billy’s apologized profusely. “They really weren’t ready yet; we’ve got another meeting on Tuesday. Don’t beat yourself up.” They sit at their desks opposite each other, and Jesse leans back with his hands clasped behind his head, scrutinizing Billy with a small frown on his face. “What’s going on with you lately?”

“Hmm?” Billy asks innocently, licking his thumb and sifting through some papers on his desk to appear busy.

“You’re…I don’t know. Jumpy. Not focused.” Jesse sounds profoundly uncomfortable. “I just want to make sure that like, I didn’t do something…uh, to upset you.”

Billy instantly feels terrible. “Oh, no,” he reassures Jesse, rubbing his hand over his eyes. “No, it has nothing to do with you, Jesse. Just – personal stuff.”

Jesse puts his hands on his desk and leans forward eagerly. “Guy stuff?” he whispers, and Billy wants to kick himself for saying anything.

“Not exactly,” he mutters, and then he figures, _what the hell_. He can’t tell Teddy, he definitely can’t tell his _mother_ , he might as well tell Jesse. “It’s my asshole neighbor. He’s just been giving me a hard time.”

“What, like, playing music too loud?”

“Uh,” Billy laughs nervously. “Spray painting ‘fag’ on my door, dumping garbage on my doormat, waking me up in the middle of the night, you know. Low-level psychological warfare.” He shrugs. “It’ll blow over.”

“Dude, are you serious?” Jesse’s eyes are huge. “That’s like – _fuck_ , I mean, can’t you call the cops or something?”

“I can’t prove it was him,” Billy says through a yawn. “Doesn’t matter anyways, I doubt they’d do anything.”

“God, Billy,” Jesse says after a moment. “I’m so sorry, man. I had no idea.”

Billy gives him a small smile of gratitude. “It’s fine. Really, I’ll…I’ll figure something out.”

Amanda plops her elbows down on Jesse’s desk and looks between them suspiciously. “What are _you_ guys whispering about over here? Office dirt? Was I right about Collins and that slutty intern?”

Jesse says, “No, Billy’s just – I mean, nothing.” He glances guiltily at Billy, who rolls his eyes.

“Whatever. Just tell her, I don’t care.”

Amanda looks powerfully intrigued, and Jesse quickly says, “Billy’s getting totally hate-crimed by his homophobic neighbor and the cops won’t do anything.”

Billy holds up a hand. “That’s not _exactly_ – ”

“Billy’s getting _hate-crimed_?” Amanda practically shouts, and _great_ , now the entire office is looking their way.

“Thanks, Amanda,” Billy mutters, and then he wants to sink through the floor, because Fernando is marching their way, face full of emotion. It would be touching, if Billy wasn’t certain he was now going to have to endure one of Fernando’s “inspirational” speeches.

“I knew it,” Fernando declares before anyone can even say anything. Mercifully, he’s keeping his voice down. “I never believed that story about you running into a pole, Billy.” He pulls up a chair and crosses his legs. “Spill.”

Jesse’s jaw drops. “Wait – the black eye? That was – ”

“That was a different time,” Billy sighs. And then, without meaning to, he’s telling the three of them the whole story, from the day he moved in, to Kessler sucker-punching him outside the building, to Tommy biting him and all the threats that ensued, to everything that’s been happening this week. It’s surprisingly liberating to get it all off his chest, without having to downplay or sugarcoat it, to admit that he’s scared, but not in the way he’s supposed to be.

“I’m not afraid of what he’s gonna _do_ to me,” he explains, “more like…I dunno. Obviously I’m not looking for trouble, and I’m keeping my head down, but I _hate_ it. I hate feeling like I can’t live my life, you know? Like I can’t be myself in my own place.”

Jesse nods, but Billy can tell he doesn’t really understand. He looks to Fernando, who seems to have been waiting for his moment to speak.

“You know what you need to do, Billy-boy, is get somebody on _your_ side in all this,” he says matter-of-factly. “It’s all very well to tell us, but we’re not going to be all that helpful since we hardly see you outside these luxurious corporate walls. What does your hunky blonde friend think about everything that’s been going on?”

Billy blushes. “He doesn’t – he’s not involved.”

Fernando is in danger is spraining an eyebrow. “Not _involved_? Honey, I’m not asking if you’re sleeping with him, I’m _asking_ if he has a shred of human decency and gives a crap about you.”

“Of course he does,” Billy scowls. “I just don’t need him fighting my battles for me.”

“You are missing my point entirely,” Fernando says airily, standing up. “You get people on your side, darling, and there’s no longer a battle for anyone to fight. It’s called _strength in numbers_.” People are starting to look up from their desks. “Do you think I invited twelve drag queens to my exclusive rooftop barbeque because I wanted them to go to _war_ for me? No, I did it so that my creepy closeted redneck neighbor would know that I had them _on my side_.”

Taylor raises her hand, “Also, you didn’t do that; that was from an episode of _Sex and the City_.”

He glares at her, and barrels on. “Even in this day and age, it saddens me to say, we sometimes have to work with people we don’t particularly want to, to get the results we need. You all know that better than most, you have to work with Taylor. But that, my friends, is what working on a team means. You don’t face challenges alone, and you have each other’s backs.” He turns back to Billy. “Now, I know you’re a team player, Billy, but you are no use to me if you get your head bashed in by some bigoted Neanderthal who crawled out of a backwoods locker room and somehow wound up here.”

Billy chokes back a laugh. “Um, okay, got it.”

Fernando crosses his arms. “You better. No more of this Lone Ranger crap. You’re not nearly rugged enough; you have the complexion of an infant.”

“I do _not_ – ”

“It’s a compliment, for crying out loud.” Fernando lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Anyways, I think I’ve imparted enough wisdom for one day. Don’t you two have a proposal to work on?” he points to Jesse and Billy. “And you,” he points to Amanda, frowning. “I feel like I’m supposed to be yelling at you for something, but I can’t remember what.”

“Not me, boss,” she says cheerfully. “Probably Donald, but he’s out sick.”

“Hmm. Must be. Taylor!” he calls. “Come on, we have our evals with Collins before lunch.”

She hurries to meet him, and Billy hears her mutter, “Let’s wait in the lobby and see if we can catch that intern sneaking out of his office.”

Jesse turns to Amanda once they’re gone. “You know, he’s gonna remember to yell at you eventually.”

“You don’t know that,” she retorts.

Billy leans forward. “What did you do?”

She grins. “I may have extended a company lunch into a mani-pedi at that salon around the corner last week.”

“Isn’t that technically white-collar crime?”

“I look at it as Marvel Industries making an investment in my happiness,” she says thoughtfully. “Besides, I happen to know Taylor and Fernando get margaritas at Barrio every Tuesday and call it a work lunch, so.” She shrugs. “I doubt I’ll hear too much about it.”

Jesse laughs. “Gotta love the private sector.”

“Tell me about it.” Amanda taps her fingers against the desk and then straightens up. “Okay, back to work. You guys going out for lunch?”

Jesse says, “I could be persuaded,” but Billy shakes his head.

“I gotta work through lunch today. Brought a sandwich. Thanks, though.”

“That’s our little _team player_ ,” she teases. 

When lunch rolls around, Billy finds himself in the unusual position of being the only one left in the office. He thinks about what Fernando said, what sense he could pull out of it anyways, and decides to text Teddy.

_How’s Tommy doing?_

The reply comes within a minute. _Wore himself out chasing Kate around. I think somebody’s got a crush._

Billy bites back a grin and types, _At least we know he’s got good taste._

_Yep. How’s work? You feeling better?_

He takes a deep breath and stares at the screen for a few moments before typing, _Yeah, actually, it’s a pretty easy day. Sorry I was weird this morning about the whole boarding thing._

_No problem. You gonna tell me what that was about?_

Billy takes a thick bite of sandwich, and types, _I didn’t want to make a big deal about it, but Kessler’s been sort of fucking with me, and I just don’t want Tommy alone in the apartment when I’m not there_.

This time, the response is immediate. _What happened?_

 _Like, vandalizing my door, banging on it in the middle of the night, nothing I can prove. You know. I’m probably overreacting_.

 _Billy, shut the fuck up. You are NOT overreacting_. Then, _I hope you know Tommy’s always welcome here. Same goes for you_.

It’s stupid, _really_ stupid, but Billy can’t help the dopey grin that spreads across his face. He doesn’t quite know how to respond, so he just says, _Thanks_.

_All right, I’ve got about 15 litterboxes to clean, but I’ll see you at 6? And we can talk about this more then?_

Billy laughs a little, and glances around to make sure the office is still empty. _Gosh, you sure lead a glamorous life_.

_Oh yeah, it’s straight up Hollywood over here. ;)_

_Yeah OK, Kanye_.

 _Ha ha. Yeezy wishes he had my flow_.

Still grinning like an idiot, he types, _Dork. I’ll see you later_.

After about five minutes, Teddy sends him a final message: _Counting down the minutes_.

It’s a really good thing everyone else decided to go out today, because Billy would hate for anyone to overhear the extremely undignified noise he makes upon reading it.

***

“All right, I’m throwing caution to the winds here,” Billy says dubiously as they approach the bar. “Last time I was at Our Place, a girl bit me on the arm.”

Teddy looks horrified. “What the fuck? Are you serious?”

“She didn’t draw blood or anything. It was a weird crowd, the band was like, _Twilight_ -themed or something.”

“Still,” Teddy mutters, shaking his head. “Well, if anyone tries to bite you tonight, I’ll whack them with a rolled-up newspaper, how’s that?”

Billy snorts. “My dog trainer savior.”

“Same goes if anyone starts humping your leg,” Teddy says with a wink.

“Oh, God. I need liquor to continue this conversation.” 

They show their IDs to the bouncer, and Teddy gets the bartender’s attention pretty quickly. It helps that he’s got that whole hipster Abercrombie model thing going on, but Billy can’t help the flash of jealousy that goes through him. Here they are, at a _gay bar_ of all places, a spot where Teddy’s gonna get scoped by every guy and girl they see – and then there’s Billy.

Well, that’s just his life.

They get their drinks, two vodka crans, and settle down on two corner stools to watch the crowd mill in. After a moment’s deliberation, Billy reaches across the bar and grabs an extra lime for his drink. “I have this theory about vodka crans,” he tells Teddy, “that the cran cancels out the vodka, and thus they are not even bad for you.” 

Teddy takes a long sip and swallows, considering. “I can get behind that theory,” he says. “We might have to test it, though. Repeatedly.” He grins, and Billy’s stomach flutters for reasons that have nothing to do with alcohol.

He smiles back at Teddy and clinks their plastic cups together. “For science.”

Then the music starts, and Billy’s somewhat relieved, because it’s suddenly seeming like the less he talks, the better. The downside is, of course, that when it becomes difficult to carry on a conversation, he drinks faster, and without meaning to, he’s put back three drinks. And then the bartenders start passing out shots. 

“You good?” Teddy calls over the music. “Band okay?”

“Good!” Billy calls back, feeling his face heat up at how close he has to be to properly hear Teddy. “Yeah, I like them!”

Teddy nudges him. “You wanna dance?”

Billy almost spits out his Kamikaze shot. “Do I want to what now?”

Teddy rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling huge like he can’t help it, and Billy can feel his buzz rolling off him and catching, and he smiles too. _Damn it_. 

“You don’t _have_ to,” Teddy adds, almost pouting. “I just dig this song. It’s kind of a jam.”

Billy can feel the predatory looks of a few guys around them, and it occurs to him that if he doesn’t dance with Teddy, the alternative is watching someone _else_ dance with Teddy, which makes up his mind at once.

“Lead the way, Swayze.”

Teddy laughs and tosses back his shot, and then they’re making their way through the sea of bodies on the dance floor. Billy’s quickly overwhelmed by the sheer number of people rubbing up against him, so he focuses on Teddy’s grip on his wrist, the clean line that Teddy’s jeans cut against his hips, the fitted maroon t-shirt that made Billy’s eyes glaze over when he first shrugged out of his jacket and hung it next to the bar. The air is thick and warm; it smells a little like pot – not surprising, the band is giving off a sort of garage-y Blue Öyster Cult kind of vibe, and Billy finds himself dancing without even intending to. His hips bump against Teddy’s – well, they’re bumping against everyone’s, and Teddy’s right in front of him, so, _duh_. And either because he’s drunk, the world’s biggest idiot, or both, he allows himself to get pushed closer to Teddy, so that his head is level with Teddy’s cheek, and Teddy’s hipbones are lined up right over his, and Billy could die for how easily they fit like this, right up against each other.

They sway together once, and then Teddy’s hand comes to rest on Billy’s side, guiding him gently, and Billy’s _gone_. He’s liquid, at Teddy’s mercy, he doesn’t know how his hand winds up on Teddy’s chest, or how Teddy’s thumb gets hooked into his belt loop, he doesn’t know how he ever _survived_ without the feel of Teddy’s wallet in his front pocket massaging a rhythm into his thigh. He’s hard – he _thinks_ Teddy is too, but they’re avoiding actually grinding on each other for now, and he doesn’t want to stare at his crotch to find out.

He looks up at Teddy’s eyes instead, and that’s a _serious_ mistake, because they are huge and blue and bright, pupils blown and molten in the dim gold light of the bar. And they’re fixated on _Billy_ – actually, they’re glancing from Billy to something on the stage, but combined with the flex of Teddy’s fingers, and the divot in the swell of his lower lip where he’s pulled it between his teeth – Billy suddenly _completely_ understands why people are compelled to have frantic, dirty sex in bar bathrooms.

Teddy leans forward, and Billy’s hard-on surges painfully in his pants when he feels Teddy’s lips against his ear.

“That bass players got it bad for you.”

“ _Huh_?” He cranes his neck to see the stage, and there – oh wow, yeah, that guy is definitely vibing him. He’s objectively cute, sort of grungey brown hair, a leather jacket, hints of stubble and hooded eyes, but he also looks about twenty, and Billy’s with _Teddy_.

Actually, that’s a good point. Maybe this guy is vibing Teddy. Billy rises up on the balls of his feet to bring his chin level with Teddy’s ear and says, “You sure? I think he might be checking _you_ out.”

Teddy laughs, and Billy feels the vibrations of it in his own chest. His cock twitches behind his zipper, and _God_ , if Teddy can do this with just his _voice_ \-   

“I don’t think so,” Teddy rumbles. Billy looks back one more time, and the bass player winks at him, smirking as he runs through the first few chords of a new song. Teddy’s fingers are still splayed over his hip, the thin cotton of his black v-neck providing negligible insulation against the sparks those little touches are sending across his skin. He realizes that he still has his palm pressed against Teddy’s chest, the tips of his fingers ending just below Teddy’s nipple. He draws his hand back, and Teddy does too.

“Want to get some air?”

Billy nods vigorously, adjusting his pants when Teddy turns around, hoping vainly that “get some air” means at the very least “dry hump each other furiously in any secluded corner on this block”. His head is swimming, he almost doesn’t register it when Teddy hands him his jacket and pulls on his own.

“I’m all for the vodka blanket, but you should probably put that on,” Teddy teases. “No way I’m gonna be the one to call your mom and tell her I let you die of hypothermia.”

“Nah, you could probably get away with it,” Billy grins, zipping his coat up and bristling at the cold outside air. “They can use my funeral as an opportunity to tell you more embarrassing stories from my youth.”

Teddy laughs. “Way to sell it, man.” They’re away from the front of the bar now, flushed from dancing and drinking and the sudden cold, and Teddy’s got his arm out like he’s reaching for Billy, and it only makes sense to step closer, so that he can touch – 

“Oh, you’re fucking _joking_.” It’s an ugly sneer, a voice that turns Billy’s blood cold. _No_. No fucking way. Fate cannot possibly be this cruel to Billy Kaplan, not after everything he’s been through this week.

And yet, here’s John Kessler, surrounded once more by two of his skinhead-looking friends, and Billy feels sick to his stomach. From the looks of it, they’re all hammered, which can only lead to unpleasantness.

“Man!” Kessler exclaims, looking around at his friends. “Fuck kind of a city is this? Can’t walk a goddamn block without tripping over a couple faggots.”

Billy whispers, “Teddy, let’s just go,” but something like a growl sounds in the back of Teddy’s throat, and he steps forward.

Well, this is just fantastic.

“You got a problem, _man_?” Teddy asks, voice low and deadly. Billy swallows, caught somewhere between terrified and seriously turned on.

“Fuckin’ right I got a problem,” Kessler spits. “Who the fuck are you? Kaplan’s boyfriend?”

“That’s none of your damn business,” Teddy replies, and Billy notes the absence of denial, and then notes that he is a fucking _moron_ , because that is really not what he should be paying attention to right now.

“It’s my fucking business,” Kessler slurs, stepping closer, “when I can’t even walk with my buddies to the fucking – where are we going? – whatever, without getting my dick jonesed after by a couple of fucking queers.”

Billy, for the aforementioned reason that he is a moron, says, “To be fair, you are standing right outside a gay bar.”

Kessler’s head snaps up and he narrows his eyes at Billy. “You just don’t know when to shut your trap, do you, you fuck – ”

Billy’s had the wind knocked out of him before, knows how jarring it is, knows how it feels to be slammed up against a brick wall so hard your teeth bang together and clatter around in your mouth. That said, there’s something immensely satisfying about seeing it happen to someone like Kessler.

“I’m gonna give you two choices,” Teddy snarls, forearm trapping Kessler against the wall by his chest. “You can walk away. Or you can leave in an ambulance. Your call.”

Kessler grunts something, and one of his friends makes a move to rush Billy. He doesn’t get very far, because Teddy’s other elbow catches him right in the nose, making him squawk and spray blood everywhere.

“Let go of me, you fucking perv,” Kessler fumes, voice strained. “Jesus.”

Teddy draws his arm back and lets it fall to his side. “Walk away,” he warns.

Kessler squares his shoulders and looks like he might do exactly the opposite, but then police lights come flying around the corner, the single short _whoop_ of a siren that means the cops have found their target, and Teddy turns to Billy and says “ _Run_.”

Billy’s never run so hard in his life. He and Teddy go racing down the block, around the corner, through an alley, around another corner, across a severely underlit parking lot, and into another alley, where they finally stop to catch their breath.

“Holy shit,” Billy gasps, wiping his eyes where the rush of cold air has brought forth tears. “That was – you’re – we just ran from the _cops_.” It’s insane, and he doesn’t know why, but it brings on a fit of uncontrollable giggles, and he can’t stop laughing for the life of him. “Oh my God, I haven’t done that since I was like, sixteen.”

Teddy braces a hand against the wall, panting, grinning in spite of himself. “You’ve got some legs on you, Kaplan. Didn’t think I’d be able to keep up much longer.”

Billy exhales in another bubble of laughter and brushes his hair out of his eyes. “Dude, I think you broke that guy’s nose.”

Teddy shakes his head. “Nah, I would’ve felt it. Just crushed a few capillaries.”

“How did you – I mean,” Billy pauses, still breathing hard, “do you like…do that kind of thing a lot?”

Teddy grimaces. “Man, I wish I could say ‘no’. But Greg has sort of a habit of starting bar fights, and…well.” His eyes dart from Billy’s to his shoes. “I try to avoid it, but I guess I’ve ended up finishing a few.”

Billy says, “Oh.”

Teddy looks at him again, searching, and Billy flattens his back against the wall. He wants the contact again, wants Teddy pressed up against him – his dick, gone soft from sprinting, stirs in interest as he imagines Teddy’s hands reaching forward, pushing their hips together, Teddy’s mouth on his neck – 

“Does that bother you?” Teddy whispers, and Billy blinks at him for a moment before he remembers that Teddy is referring to their real-life conversation, and not the imaginary events unfolding in his mind.

That said, he has to think about it. It was kind of hot to see Teddy defending him against Kessler, but it was also nerve-wracking, and the idea of him defending Greg in a similar manner is all kinds of off-putting.

Teddy must read something in his expression, because he lets out a breath and starts to take a step backwards, prompting Billy’s hand to shoot out unconsciously and grab onto the edge of his sleeve. Teddy freezes, and Billy goes rigid against the cold bricks, fingers trembling where they’re gripping the rough wool of Teddy’s coat.

“No,” he says hoarsely. “It doesn’t. I know that’s not you, Teddy.”

Teddy’s face is obscured by the steam of their combined breath when he replies, “Sometimes I wonder.”

“It’s _not_ ,” Billy repeats emphatically. “Hey. Remember what you told me, after Tommy went all mad-dog on Kessler?”

Teddy doesn’t say anything, just looks at him, and Billy realizes that they’re _close_ , so close he can’t maintain eye contact without his eyes crossing, and Teddy’s hands are on either side of his head – when did _that_ happen? – but his elbows are locked, he’s not moving any closer. Waiting, Billy realizes, for him to say something.

“You said – ” oh, fuck, what was it Teddy said? Something really smart – something Billy’s vodka-addled brain cells aren’t putting together right now – something about family? Protection? “ – Shit, I don’t actually remember, but it made a lot of sense at the time.”

Teddy laughs. “Glad to know I made such an impression.”

Billy groans. “Shut _up_ , you did, okay, I’m just drunk, don’t listen to me…ugh, sorry, I’m terrible at this.” He squirms a little, dropping Teddy’s sleeve and fisting his hands at his sides. His dick is tenting furiously in his jeans, he needs Teddy to touch him, kiss him, _anything_.

He inhales shakily, and Teddy’s gaze drops to his mouth.

 _Please_. They’re like, six inches apart, he’s _got_ to, no way he’d get this much in Billy’s space if he wasn’t planning on making a move.

Except, after a few seconds, Teddy pushes back from the wall and rocks onto his heels, glancing out at the entrance to the street. His cheeks are pink from the chill, and the steam of his breath pours out as thick and steady as if he were standing there having a cigarette.

Billy stares at him, wonders for about three seconds if he’s about to make a terrible, terrible mistake, and then throws it all out the window.

He expects Teddy to jerk in surprise, or possibly protest, when he deliberately grabs him by the front of his coat and pulls him forward, but Teddy’s body comes flush against his without the slightest resistance, and then their mouths are pressed together, _finally_ , and he’s tasting hot breath that isn’t his own, and Teddy’s face is _freezing_ , but his lips are soft and warm.

Billy lets out a moan and Teddy crowds tighter into his space, pulling the air out of his lungs, one hand on Billy’s hip and the other snaking into the back of his hair – he may have started this, but Teddy’s the one doing the kissing now; Billy’s just along for the ride. He’s dizzy, breathless – actually breathless, he realizes, he can’t fucking breathe. He jerks his mouth away from Teddy’s, gasping, and then has to bite back a whimper when he feels something solid in Teddy’s jeans that is definitely _not_ Teddy’s wallet jutting into the soft flesh next to his hip.

“ _Teddy_ – ”

Teddy nips gently at his jaw, he knows it’s rough with stubble, wonders if that turns Teddy on, wonders what _else_ turns Teddy on.

“You want to get out of here?” he murmurs, trying to make his voice low and seductive. “Go back to my place?”

Teddy’s lips go still against his, and then he pushes back, a funny expression painting his features.

Billy tries again. “Your place? I’m not picky.”

“Um.” Teddy coughs, and Billy feels the dull edge of panic when he slowly withdraws his hands. “I’m not sure, Billy…we’ve been drinking, I mean,” he glances anxiously at Billy and then continues staring at the space next to Billy’s head, “I want to, but I don’t want to give you the wrong idea here.”

 _Oh_.

Evidently, Kessler’s not the only one getting the wind knocked out of him tonight.

“Billy? Are you – ”

“Yeah, no, it’s,” Billy swallows. “It’s good. You’re right. That – that was my bad.”

Teddy frowns. “No, I didn’t mean – I just, this isn’t something I want to screw up.”

“Believe me, I get it,” Billy says tiredly. Disappointment is flooding through him, making him feel sick to his stomach. “I’m actually not feeling so hot, I think I’d better get home.”

“Okay,” Teddy replies, still sounding uncertain. “I’ll walk you.”

He finds he doesn’t have it in him to argue.

When Teddy says goodbye to him on the bottom step of his building’s stoop, he almost wants to cry. _God_ , why did Teddy have to go and ruin it like that? Billy knew what this was, he’s not deluded, if all Teddy wanted was sex, he could’ve worked with that. Friends with benefits; that’s a thing, right? Billy could’ve made that work. But no, Teddy has to go and be Mr. Chivalrous, _I don’t want to screw up our friendship, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, this isn’t the epic romance you’ve clearly been fantasizing about_.

It’s ironic, he thinks as he rides up in the elevator, because it’s a variation of the speech he neglected to give to Teddy earlier that week. Billy wonders why, just once, he can’t learn his valuable life lesson _and_ get the guy.

He’s too tired and upset to try to convince himself it’s for the best. Tommy greets him with his usual exuberance, and Billy numbly walks him up and down the block, watching with indifference as he does his business. He jerks off methodically in the shower, almost too drunk and depressed to finish, but he manages, and it’s completely unsatisfying anyways. Tommy’s waiting outside the bathroom door when he emerges, head resting on his paws, tail low and eyes sad. Guilt stirs in Billy’s gut, and then something _else_ stirs in his gut, and he has to run back into the bathroom to throw up.

“Fuck,” he croaks, wiping his mouth and fumbling for his mouthwash on the counter. “Tommy, your owner is a goddamn shitshow.” He cringes at the bright red liquid and flushes it down. “That’s not pretty.”

Tommy whines and shuffles closer on his belly, pressing his cold nose into the back of Billy’s ankle.

“Screw people,” he mumbles, struggling with his blankets as he crawls into bed. “We should just all be dogs.” Tommy waits until he’s situated, then jumps up onto the bed next to him, flopping down with a heavy sigh that pretty much describes Billy’s feelings towards his entire life at the moment.

He flings an arm over his dog and wonders how apocalyptically hungover he’ll be in the morning.

***

His answer comes at eight AM, when his alarm goes off and sends a thousand jackhammers directly into his brain. “ _Ngh_ ,” he grunts, silencing his phone and thrusting it under his pillow.

At ten-thirty, Tommy starts barking, and it’s nothing short of miraculous that Billy manages to stay vertical long enough to take him outside for his morning dump. He drinks six glasses of water, takes four Advil, and falls back into bed.

It’s a quarter to two when he becomes dimly aware that his phone’s been buzzing on and off for the past several minutes. Blinking, still not entirely awake, he pulls it out and peers at the screen. _5 Missed Calls_. He frowns and scrolls through. They’re all from Teddy.

Well, that’s kind of weird.

He’s debating whether or not to call him back when the screen lights up. Teddy’s calling _again_. Billy doesn’t particularly feel like talking to him, but something doesn’t feel right. Teddy wouldn’t call six times in the span of an hour if he just wanted to chat.

He shakes himself awake and tries not to sound as groggy as he feels when he answers. “Teddy?”

“Billy! Oh, thank God.” Teddy sounds absolutely frantic. Tommy’s ears prick, and Billy sits up a little straighter.

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“It’s Nate.” Teddy sounds like he’s holding back tears. “I – I ran out to get some lunch, and when I came back, his gate was open.”

“He escaped?” Billy throws the covers back and stumbles out of bed. Pants, he needs to find pants. Outside pants. _Jeans_ , yes, that’s the word.

“That’s the thing, I don’t think he did.” There’s a muffled noise on Teddy’s end like he’s suppressing a sob, and then he says, “The guys that had him before – Greg owes them money, we had a huge fight yesterday, and now – ”

Billy waits, poised on the edge of his bed with one leg through his pants.

“Billy,” Teddy’s voice breaks. “I think – I think they took him.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REALLY SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG GUYS, I can't even describe the chaos that has been my life these past couple of months. the last chapter will DEFINITELY be posted sooner, I promise. you all are amazing, thanks for reading!

“ _Took_ him?” Billy’s mouth is dry. “Teddy, are – are you sure?”

It’s quiet on Teddy’s end, and then he says, “I don’t know what to do.”

Billy’s heart sinks horribly. “Stay there, okay? I’m coming. Me and Tommy – we’re coming.”

“Okay.” Teddy’s voice is muffled and distant.

“We’ll find him. I – ” he stops, realizing he’d been about to say _I promise_ , and he can’t, can he? And Teddy knows it. “ – We’ll find him.”

Teddy doesn’t say anything, so Billy hangs up, and then looks around for Tommy. He finds him hiding just below the foot of his bed, a guilty expression on his face and a piece of Billy’s slipper hanging from his mouth.

Billy doesn’t bother reprimanding him; it’s his own fault for sleeping all day and leaving Tommy to his own devices. If a slipper’s the only casualty, he’ll consider himself lucky. “Come on, buddy,” he says, grabbing a sweater and his shoes. “We gotta go.”

He pees, throws some water on his face and runs his wet fingers through his hair, grabs his scarf and coat, and they’re gone. Tommy, for all his puppy obtuseness, seems to understand that they’re in a hurry and for once doesn’t try to mark every tree on their block. Billy jogs with him almost the whole way there, casting anxious glances at the sky periodically. Dark clouds are rolling in at an alarming speed, as heavy as snow clouds, but it’s well above freezing. He picks up the pace when he feels the first light raindrops brush against his face. No telling when the downpour will start, but he wills it to stay away at least until he’s indoors.

Cap barks to notify his arrival, and Billy gives him a brief scratch on the head. He sees the dogs are all outside, and _shit_ , Teddy must really be beside himself if he hasn’t noticed the weather and brought them in.

Teddy isn’t anywhere in the main part of the shelter, so Billy takes it upon himself to call the dogs inside. He’s fastening the latch on Logan’s gate when he hears the door slam, and then Teddy is standing in the hallway, looking confused, eyes rimmed with red.

“What are you doing?”

Billy straightens up. “It’s raining. I, uh. I just brought them in.”

“It’s raining,” Teddy repeats, like he doesn’t understand the words. Then he slumps against the wall. “Jesus Christ, I can’t fucking do this.”

“Come on.” Billy’s hand freezes in midair right before he closes it around Teddy’s wrist – he’s too used to holding back, he’s not even sure this is _allowed_ , but fuck it – and then he grabs Teddy and pulls him gently into the main room, checking to make sure Tommy is occupied. His dog is down on his belly with his nose pressed to the glass door of one of the cat rooms, ears pricked in laser-focus, occasional low whines sounding from between his teeth. He should be good for at least a few minutes.

Billy guides Teddy against the edge of the desk and watches his knees buckle as he leans against it. He releases Teddy’s wrist, and Teddy’s eyes flick down towards his hand before he takes a deep breath and folds in on himself, scrubbing a palm down his face, anguish and guilt etched into his expression.

Billy says, “Tell me what happened.”

Teddy takes a deep breath. “Okay, so, Greg was here yesterday.” He glances apologetically up at Billy, and Billy fights the urge to roll his eyes. Of all the times for Teddy to be worried about _his_ feelings.

“It’s fine,” he says quickly, “don’t worry about it. Just – go ahead.”

“Okay.” Teddy swallows. “It was weird, he…he was like, being nice, and saying he was sorry for everything that’d gone down with Nate’s adoption before. I probably should’ve known something was up from the beginning. But then he starts talking about how ‘we’ve been friends our whole lives’, ‘we have each other’s backs’, shit like that, and then he tells me – the guys who had Nate before? The ones running the fighting ring? Apparently Greg owes them money, something that went down before their operation got busted a couple months back.”

Billy’s eyes are wide. “Fuck.”

“Yeah. So I told him I have some money, I could probably help him out, but he says ‘it’s not like that, they’re saying I owe them for the dog, for all the fights they missed when he got picked up by the cops’, and I realized after a minute that he was saying he wanted me to give him Nate. Like he’s some kind of fucking bartering chip.” His fingers clench tighter at the edge of the desk. “I told him to get the fuck out, obviously. He gave me some shit about picking a dog over him, or whatever, but I think he knew I was about five seconds away from punching him, so he just told me to go fuck myself and left.”

Tommy whines and paws at the door. Billy notices that one of the cats, all white like Tommy – Pietro, he thinks is its name – is stalking back and forth in front of the glass, taunting him. He turns his attention back to Teddy. “Okay.”

“So that was like, an hour before you got here last night?” He picks at a spot on the desk. “I should've – I didn't say anything because...I guess I was kind of relieved? It sounds awful to say, but I've been looking for a way to get away from Greg, and he's been such a dick lately, and I guess I figured that was it. I never thought he'd do anything like this.”

Billy crosses his arms and shivers a little, fighting through the remnants of his hangover to make sense of everything. “Christ. Okay, so, when did you notice he was gone?”

Teddy swallows. “Little after one. I fed everyone at nine, which is later than usual, but he was fine then, and I _know_ I latched the gate. And then I went out to grab a sandwich, and when I came back...” His hand clenches into a fist around the edge of the desk. “He was just gone.”

Tommy barks and bumps his head against the glass. Pietro is on his back now, rolling his head against the carpet luxuriously, piercing green eyes fixated on Billy's dog. Billy frowns. “Tommy, leave it.” He looks down at the leash in his hand. “I'm gonna put him with the others,” he says to Teddy. “And then we can – I don't know, call the cops?” It's a stupid idea, he knows it as soon as he's said it. The NYPD isn't going to give a shit about someone's missing dog. They couldn't even keep a known dog fighter off the streets for more than a few weeks. “Can you call Greg?”

“I've been trying,” Teddy shakes his head miserably. “He's not picking up. I wasn't sure it was him at first, but. I think that makes it pretty clear.”

Disappointment lurches inside Billy, making him feel sick to his stomach. “Fuck,” he says again. “Shit. We'll figure something out, let me just – ” he motions to Tommy. “One second.”

Teddy nods, looking like he might cry again.

“I'm gonna kill that guy,” Billy mutters to Tommy as they enter the puppy kennel. “I'm gonna fucking kill him.” Tommy butts his head against his leg, whining anxiously, and Billy crouches down to pull him close. “I hope Nate rips his goddamn head off.”

Tommy growls, and Billy scratches him under the edge of his harness. “Hang tight, buddy. If anyone comes and tries to take you out besides me or Teddy, you have permission to go right for the jugular, okay?”

Tommy licks his chin.

“Yeah, just like that, except more teeth. Good boy.” Billy kisses the top of his head, and then jogs back toward the main part of the shelter. The rain is coming down a little more steadily now, the clouds above darker and looking increasingly threatening by the minute.

His hand is outstretched, reaching for the door, when something catches his eye around the corner, in the entrance to the alleyway between the shelter and the old brownstone in front of it. Pulling his scarf tighter around him, he walks curiously over. Trash is spilling out from an overturned can, mostly damp newspaper, and next to it, a familiar red nylon collar. Holding his breath, he reaches down and picks it up. The tag jingles. He turns it over and looks at it.

 _Nate_.

“Oh my god,” he says out loud, clutching the collar tightly. “Teddy!” He rushes back into the shelter, tracking water everywhere, not particularly caring. “Teddy, look!”

He thrusts the collar into Teddy's hands and watches his eyes widen. “This is Nate's collar,” Teddy says slowly, like he can't quite believe it.

“Yeah, and look,” Billy points to where the clip of a leash is hanging next to the tag. “The leash is broken.” Comprehension starts to seep into Teddy's crumpled expression. “Teddy, maybe he got away.”

“Maybe he got away,” Teddy repeats, looking stunned.

“Yeah, I mean, he could be out there right – well, wait.” Something dawns on Billy, making his stomach turn again with dread. “Wouldn't he come back here?”

“Not if he's scared,” Teddy says, standing up and starting to pace. “He'd probably just hide, take shelter somewhere quiet. He's just a puppy, he doesn't have an established territory – he probably doesn't even know what to do.” Teddy drags a hand roughly through his hair, and Billy helplessly follows the movement. “We – I have to find him.”

“We,” Billy corrects him firmly. “No, I'm helping. It's gonna get ugly out there in a minute,” he adds, glancing worriedly at the sky through the window. “We should go now.”

“Yeah,” Teddy agrees, grabbing his coat from behind the desk. “Let's go.”

“I found the collar here,” Billy tells him once they reach the alley. “So he could've gone through, or backtracked behind the shelter.” It occurs to him just how many nooks and crannies, alleys and chutes between buildings there are in this part of town, and his heart sinks a little. “Jesus, he could be anywhere.”

“We'll find him,” Teddy breathes, and he sounds like he's trying to convince himself more than anything. “I'll go this way,” he points down the alley. “Call if you find anything?”

“Sure,” Billy nods, still trying to add up all the ground they have to cover. “Okay, I'll – we'll be in touch.” Before he can stop himself, he reaches out and grips Teddy's shoulder. “Hey,” he says, trying to keep his voice gentle. “This is good. Anywhere he's at has to be better than if those guys got him.”

“Yeah,” Teddy agrees, gone still under Billy's hand. Billy draws his arm back, silently berating himself. Now is _really_ not the time to be worrying about anyone's feelings, or lack thereof. He can think more on Teddy's rejection later – right now, they have to find Nate.

Teddy gives him a shaky smile, and then heads off down the alley, hands in his coat pockets, whistling sharply. Billy pats the milkbone in his front pocket, then turns and does the same in the opposite direction.

He lasts about one block before the events of the previous night start trickling back into his mind unbidden. He tries to shut them out, to focus on finding Nate, but the harder he tries, the louder Teddy's words echo in his mind. _I don't want to give you the wrong idea_. Stupid, _stupid_. Nobody their age wants a boyfriend, Billy's known that since his fumbling and failed attempts at monogamy in college, and Teddy's the last person he should've expected to be different. He's gorgeous, and sexy, and fun, and he knows where all the best taco trucks are, and he knows how to sneak into the NYU Athletic Complex after hours, and he can slap someone's hand with his and get their cover charge comped at half the bars in Midtown. Teddy's the kind of guy that everyone falls in love with, that everyone hopes will pick him. And Billy's not a total loser, sure, but he's never the one that gets picked.

It's okay. It's hardly the first time Billy's fallen for someone out of his league, it probably won't be the last. Once he can figure out how to get some distance, he'll be able to see that Teddy's not so different from the other guys he's lusted after without hope of reciprocation. 

He's entering a narrow alley between two poorly maintained apartment buildings and calling for Nate when two things happen very suddenly. First, he hears a whimpering sound from somewhere further down, around the vicinity of an overflowing recycling bin.

“Nate?” He runs forward. “Buddy? Is that you?”

If there's an answering whimper, he doesn't hear it, because the second thing that happens is that the clouds give an ominous rumble, and then the sky opens up over him.

Heavy drops splatter over his face and drench his head in a matter of seconds, and he drags his hands over his eyes as he strains through the sleet to see behind the recycling bin. “Nate?” he calls again, his voice nearly drowned out by another, louder clap of thunder. There's _something_ behind the bin, it looks like a dog – he hopes to God it's actually Nate, and not some random, rabid stray, or a very small homeless person - “It's okay, buddy,” he attempts, stretching his hand out. “C'mere. I'm not gonna hurt you.”

A cold, wet nose bumps against his palm. Billy bites the inside of his cheek and hopes that his arm isn't about to get ripped off. If he could just _see_ – 

The dog noses his hand again, and licks it. Billy breathes out and fishes the milkbone out of his pocket. It's starting to dissolve, but he holds it out, and the dog comes forward, ears laid back against its head, dark brown eyes gazing up at him apprehensively, and - “Oh, thank God,” Billy moans, slumping against the wall. Nate takes the soaked milkbone and starts breaking it into pieces on the ground. The awning of the building above them isn't offering much protection, but Billy pulls his phone out and cradles it carefully under his scarf, trying to keep too much water from getting on it. He dials Teddy, who picks up on the second ring.

“Did you – ”

“I found him.” Billy cups his hand over the receiver. “He's okay.”

“Billy...” Teddy's voice sounds oddly strangled. He's probably half drowned. “I – thank you. _Thank_ you. Jesus, where are you?”

“Few blocks away. Get back to the shelter, we'll meet you there. Assuming we don't wash away.” The remainder of Nate's milkbone is now floating in a puddle. Nate looks affronted. “I'm gonna hang up before my phone gets water damage.”

“Sure,” Teddy says quickly. “I'll see you in a minute.”

Billy hangs up, hoping he didn't cut Teddy off in the middle of a sentence. Too late, he realizes he now has another problem to deal with – Nate escaped his collar and leash, and Billy didn't actually bring either with him.

“Goddamnit,” he sighs, looking around for a piece of twine, a broken garbage bag tie, anything he can use, but of course there's nothing. He's about to call Teddy back when something occurs to him.

“You're lucky you're cute,” he tells Nate, unwinding his scarf reluctantly from his neck and zipping his coat up as high as it will go, which he's certain won't be high enough to keep out the rain. “If you rip my favorite scarf, the replacement's coming out of your treat fund.”

Nate shrinks back a little when Billy attempts to put the scarf around his neck, and Billy's heart squeezes in his chest. “It's okay, boy,” he coaxes, keeping his palms flat and low. “We gotta get you home, come on. There you go. Shh, shh.” Nate tenses as he carefully ties the scarf to itself around him, a low growl sounding from the back of his throat. “Easy,” Billy swallows, scratching him reassuringly behind the ears. “Yeah, that's good. You're all right.”

He stands, the end of the makeshift scarf-leash tight between his fingers, which are slowly going numb from the rain. “Should we go home?” he calls to Nate, jiggling the scarf hopefully.

Nate's ears prick. “Yeah, home! You like going home. Come on!”

It takes another minute to get him out from behind the recycling bin, and during that time, Billy's shoes fill completely with water, but then Nate trots out, and they finally set off in the direction of the shelter. It's only three blocks, but it's three blocks of crouching to keep his hold on the end of the scarf, rain streaming down through his hair and eyelashes, soaking him under his coat, dripping into his underwear, even, of Nate stopping every ten seconds to shake himself off, only to get drenched again, and of Billy nearly getting pulled off his feet every time there's a flash of lightning or a clap of thunder and Nate goes skittering off to the side.

Billy wrenches open the gate to the shelter yard with one frozen, trembling hand, and Nate bounds in as a familiar voice shouts his name from the doorway. And then Billy is sadly watching his scarf get dragged through the mud, and Teddy is running out towards them, past Nate and directly towards Billy, and Billy is halfway through processing this when he's practically lifted off the ground as Teddy throws his arms around him, sealing their soaked bodies together, hugging him tighter than Billy thinks he's ever been hugged in his life.

“Teddy,” he manages to say faintly, “um, it's,” but then Teddy's hands fist at his collar and he's being wrenched forward and _kissed_ , really, truly, desperately kissed, and he feels the gratitude pouring from Teddy's mouth into his own, and he shouldn't, but he swallows it, takes it all in. Their noses are mashed together, Teddy's making a sound like he's underwater (which, to be fair, they practically are at this point), and they're both so pathetically wet that Billy isn't quite sure where he ends and Teddy begins. Thunder bellows over them, and Nate yelps fearfully.

“Shit,” Teddy gasps, breaking away from him. “God, Billy, I'm – I'm sorry, I shouldn’t’ve – sorry,” he says again, wiping his mouth. “Um. I need to – we should put Nate away. Just. Yeah.” His fingers release Billy's coat, and he pats Billy awkwardly on the shoulder.

Billy stares at him, mouth still open in the position that Teddy's lips had forced it into not ten seconds ago. Teddy takes a step back, cheeks blotchy and red. “I'm gonna,” he starts, and then seems to think better of finishing his sentence, and turns to get Nate, who's now scratching frantically at the door, trying to get inside.

Well, at least one of them has the right idea. Billy follows numbly, managing to finally close his mouth and readmit himself into reality as Teddy grabs a stack of towels and starts rubbing Nate down outside his kennel. “Uh, here,” Teddy says, standing up and wincing a little as he hands Billy his muddy, dripping scarf. “Sorry.”

“It'll wash,” Billy replies dully. He's more focused on how Teddy's avoiding his eyes, how he hunches his shoulders away from him when he turns back to continue drying Nate off. This is a mixed-signals parade the likes of which Billy has never seen before. He opens his mouth, and then realizes he has no idea what he even wants to say.

“Do you need anything?”

Teddy pauses, but doesn't look at him. “Can you check on the puppies? This is their first big storm; I haven't heard anything that sounds too catastrophic in there, but just to be safe.”

Billy gets the sense he just wants more distance between them, but he agrees nonetheless, and the puppies are all fine. A few oddly placed puddles give the impression that some of them might've been a little spooked when the storm started, but now they're all collapsed in a messy heap on and around Kate's bed. Billy snaps a picture, and gets a reproachful eyeball from Eli, who's sandwiched snugly between Kate and Tommy.

When he gets back to Nate's kennel, Teddy is murmuring praise and rubbing him behind the ears. The relief in his voice is palpable and catching, and Billy is almost able to forget how hopelessly confused he is about everything between them. He doesn't say anything, just leans against the wall, trying to sort out his thoughts, trying to think past the press of Teddy's mouth and the taste of his breath. It doesn't add up, he can't work out whether he's completely overthinking everything, or if there's a fundamental piece that he somehow missed. He wants to believe the former, because that's almost always the case, and it's certainly the easiest to deal with, but.

 _But_.

 _That boy's in love with you_.

 _This isn't something I want to screw up_.

He's too wet, too cold, and probably still too hungover to work this out. Part of him wants to just grab Tommy and go home.

Part of him just wants to grab _Teddy_ and go home. He decides to remain still until that particular impulse is under control.

Teddy straightens after what seems like an eternity and turns to stare fixedly at a point around Billy's shoes. His hair is plastered to his head, ears bright red from the cold, and because the world is a colossally unfair place, he still looks unbelievably good. Billy probably looks like a drowned rat.

“I'm really sorry about that,” Teddy motions to Billy's scarf awkwardly. “God, we're both total disasters.”

Billy laughs his assent humorlessly, and Teddy shakes his head as if clearing it. “You're like, going to die of hypothermia if you spend any more time in those clothes,” he says, and Billy bites back a hysterical noise at the implication. Teddy blushes, but barrels on, finally meeting Billy's eyes with a sheepish expression. “Just – come upstairs, okay? Let me like, give you something dry to put on, at least. It doesn't have to be – just come on.” He jerks his head in the direction of the stairs up to his apartment. “It's straight-up dumb to even try to be outside when it's like this.”

Billy can't really argue with him there. His teeth are chattering; dry clothes sound amazing. “That'd be great,” he hears himself say, and then they're clambering up the steps to Teddy's place, slipping on the rainwater as they go. Billy's jeans are probably fused to his legs, his feet are swimming in his shoes. It's all very ridiculous, which is probably why he feels like he's going to burst out laughing at any moment.

They try to keep the water and mud in Teddy's entryway as much as possible, but they're essentially stripping next to each other, and Teddy moves across the room to give Billy some space. Billy hangs his coat on the coatrack, strips out of his sweater, shoes, and socks, and is in the middle of rolling up his pants when he glances across the room to see Teddy staring at him with a sort of glazed expression. It takes Billy a moment to place it, but he realizes that it's the same hunger he saw in the alleyway the previous night, right before Teddy blew him off.

Something clicks into place. He stands up.

“Okay,” he says, holding a hand up tentatively. Teddy's eyes snap up to his guiltily. “Is there something going on here? Am I crazy? I feel like I'm crazy.” Already he's regretting opening his mouth, but there's no going back now. “Are you...” he pauses, trying to think of a way to phrase his next words without sounding self-centered, before deciding that it's probably impossible. “Are you into me, or what?”

Teddy blinks. Billy wonders whether throwing himself down the stairs would be an overly dramatic action to take at this point.

“Well, yeah,” Teddy finally says, looking down. “Yeah, Billy, I'm pretty into you. I kind of thought that was obvious.”

“Oh.” Billy frowns. “Wait, really?”

Teddy tugs at his damp shirt. It's clinging to him in a way that could easily be described as pornographic. “I mean...yeah.”

“Oh,” Billy says again, feeling like a complete idiot. “Okay, so you're...and I'm...that's good, that's all good, so why aren't we...?” He motions between them. Teddy looks lost. Understandable, considering that Billy hasn't actually managed to say anything that makes any kind of sense. “What happened last night?”

“Oh, that,” Teddy sighs. He looks uncomfortable. “Look, I understand if you don't want to hear this, but I'm _into_ you, Billy. I don't mean just attracted to you. I mean I like you a _lot_ , so much that it scares me, and I don't just want to sleep with you.” He bites his lip and glances at Billy with a wry half-smile. “Honestly, I think if all we did is sleep together, it'd probably wreck me.”

“But,” Billy starts, trying hard to process everything he's hearing. “But I don't _just_ want to sleep with you, Teddy, not at all, I'm – I'm into you too, I like you so much, you don't even, um.” He pushes his hair out of his face. It's probably sticking up everywhere. “You're not joking?”

Teddy laughs. “Jesus Christ.”

Billy says, “Wow.”

Teddy looks at him, grinning uncontrollably.

Billy says, “So,” and then gives up on words altogether, choosing instead to cross the room and take Teddy's face in his hands and kiss him, _finally_ unwaveringly, _finally_ on solid ground, on even ground, on his terms and Teddy's terms and the terms of the whole goddamn universe, soft and honest and full of laughter. Teddy's tongue dances against his lower lip, fingers gripping gently at his chin, and Billy melts against him, pushing their bodies together, thinking about kissing and thinking about everything else, except, he realizes, he can't get hard right now, can't even try, because he's half frozen to death, and Teddy's mouth is warm but his hands are like ice, and Billy shivers violently.

Teddy breaks away from him only to kiss him again, firmly and chastely, and then looks directly at him, eyes shining in a way that makes Billy's knees wobble. “You,” Teddy says, matter-of-factly, “are too cold and wet to even function right now.”

“I don't have enough body fat to endure this kind of weather,” Billy admits. “It's kind of pathetic.”

Then they're kissing again, for how long Billy isn't sure, but he isn't ready to stop when Teddy pulls back again and asks, “Do you want to like, take a hot shower?”

 _That_ , Billy thinks, _is a great idea_. Best idea Teddy's ever had. On one condition – “Only if you're in it with me,” he replies, nipping at Teddy's jaw.

Teddy's breath leaves him in a _whoosh_ of warm air on Billy's face, and he says, “Okay. Let's go.”

Billy lets himself be led by the hand to Teddy's bathroom, and is relieved to see that he has a bathtub shower, definitely big enough to hold them both. He has unpleasant memories from college, trying to fit two bodies into the shitty stand-up shower stalls with dirty walls and horrible water pressure. Not that he wouldn't be willing to try just about anything with Teddy.

Against all odds, he's actually got a semi going inside his cold, wet briefs; the thought of showering with Teddy is apparently enough to achieve the impossible. Teddy drops his hand and turns the shower on, holding his hand under the water until steam starts to rise from the spray. He shucks out of his shirt and kisses Billy under his ear. “Get in,” he whispers, breath tickling Billy's ear. “I gotta pee really quick. I'm right behind you.”

Billy nods and drags him in for another long kiss, and then Teddy's smiling and walking backwards out of the bathroom.

“Wait a minute,” Billy calls, peeling off his jeans. He's glad Teddy's not in the room, it's a very unattractive process. “You have _two_ bathrooms?”

“One and a half,” Teddy calls back with a laugh. “I know, I'm pretty fucking legit.”

Billy shakes his head. “How the hell are you single, man?”

“Get in the damn shower, Billy.”

He really doesn't need to be told twice. The room is already warming, sensation slowly returning to his fingers and toes. He braces himself for the blast of heat when he steps into the shower, and he isn't disappointed. It's painful at first, burning his frozen scalp and ears, sending retroactive chills down his spine, but _God_ , under all that it feels like the best thing he's ever experienced in his whole life. Warmth seeps back into his skin slowly, his dick perks up at once and expands to full hardness. He strokes himself a few times, taking steadying breaths and pacing himself, because as horny as he is, he really doesn't want to blow his load the second Teddy gets in the shower.

Which, he notices with a flash of anxiety, is taking kind of a long time. He's halfway convinced the entire thing is an elaborate prank when the curtain finally pulls back and Teddy steps in, open hunger etched all over his face, naked and just as hard as Billy.

They stare at each other, and Teddy rakes his eyes over Billy's body unabashedly. “Sorry,” he says with a small shrug. “Hard to take a leak with, um. You know.” He gestures to himself and grins, and Billy finds himself grinning back.

“I might have a solution,” he says, and pulls Teddy to him under the water.

Teddy says, “ _Fuck_ ,” and Billy has to agree. They're pressed together, hot skin against hot skin, there's not an inch of Billy that isn't touching Teddy, Teddy's fingers are skating in the water that's streaming down Billy's back, Billy's palms are seated on Teddy's collarbones, feeling along the line of Teddy's shoulders and neck, reaching up to tug at the ends of his hair. Teddy groans into his mouth as their cocks rub together, he's moving against Billy, or maybe Billy's moving, or maybe they both are, but it's friction, and it's _incredible_.

“Holy _shit_ ,” Billy gasps, leaning back and letting his head thunk against the wall. “I could actually come from this.”

Teddy's hand comes around to grip them both, and Billy makes a truly embarrassing noise. “I really want to blow you,” Teddy murmurs, running his tongue through the stubble along Billy's jaw. His thumb circles the head of Billy's cock, and Billy struggles to form a coherent thought.

Teddy sucks on his ear as if to prove a point, and Billy closes his eyes, imagining that mouth, that _tongue_ , wrapped around his dick, watching himself disappear down Teddy's throat, water falling down through Teddy's eyelashes, Teddy slurping it in, sucking ferociously all the way down Billy's cock – “oh, okay,” he says, shaking his head and steadying himself against the wall. “Okay, no, I'll definitely slip and die if you do that. Fuck.”

“Dying is bad,” Teddy remarks, sliding his hand faster up and down Billy's shaft. “Are you gonna die if I do this?”

“Not literally,” Billy babbles, struggling to find purchase on something. “Maybe figuratively. I could figuratively die from just about anything you do to me, at this point. I might be figuratively dead already.”

Teddy laughs into his mouth and kisses him deeply, wet and hot and doing absolutely nothing to delay his figurative early demise. “You're so fucking sexy, Billy. Jesus.”

Billy says, “You're insane,” and wraps one hand around Teddy's cock, using his other hand on Teddy's ass to pull their hips snugly together. He mimics Teddy's movements, swiping his thumb over the head and running it along the underside of Teddy's shaft, twisting his fist and catching beads of come in his palm, using them to slick his path. “Jesus fucking _Christ_ ,” he moans, working Teddy's cock faster, harder. They're no longer kissing, just panting against each other's mouths with shallow and shallower breaths, echoing each other's small, hungry noises, Billy's balls are tightening, his entire body starting to seize with the gut-punch of an orgasm, and then Teddy stutters out a high-pitched sound and pitches forward, and Billy's done for.

“I'm – ” he cries, jerking forward into Teddy's hand, “Teddy, _fuck_ , I'm gonna – ”

Teddy shudders and says something indiscernible, then pushes their cocks together, and Billy feels Teddy coming, feels himself coming, feels hot liquid that isn't water shoot up over his hand and onto his stomach, and he doesn't know whose come is whose, but not knowing makes it ten times hotter. He slumps and buries his face in Teddy's throat, leaning into Teddy's loosening grip around him. How many times has he jerked off in the shower thinking about Teddy? How many times has he stripped his own cock furiously under the hot spray and imagined it was Teddy's hand, or Teddy's mouth?

He'd do the math, but he's not thinking very clearly at the moment, and besides, it's officially irrelevant. He's experienced the real thing, through some bizarre stroke of fate, and it's better than the best goddamn thing he's ever allowed himself to imagine.

Teddy drags him back under the water and cradles him gently, angling him into the spray so the mess on his stomach is slowly washed away. “You still with me? Figuratively and literally?”

“Not sure,” Billy mumbles. “That was. That.”

“It was,” Teddy agrees, kissing his ear. “You have _no_ idea how long I've been waiting for that.”

“I think I have some idea,” Billy says faintly. “An inkling.”

“I think we've probably steamed up my whole apartment by now.”

“Your apartment is the size of my whole floor,” Billy replies. “That seems unlikely.”

He gets a nip on the shoulder for that one. And a apologetic kiss afterwards.

“I'm gonna turn the water off,” Teddy says after a minute. “Stay upright.”

“Ugh,” Billy groans. “Should've known you were one of those controlling types.”

Teddy laughs and turns the water off, pulling the curtain open. “Come on, smart-ass.” He hands Billy a towel and grins at him, then leans forward and presses their lips together. “I've got dry clothes for you.”

Billy perks up. “Ooh. Magic words.” He dries himself off hurriedly and then follows Teddy into his room.

It's unremarkable, but it's also perfect. The furnishings are wood and modest, the walls are beige, except for one olive green wall behind his bed, and his sheets are brown and white. There's a faded white rug that takes up about half the room, and most of the color comes from the spines of books stacked haphazardly on a towering shelf in the corner. Billy wants to go peruse them, but he doesn't want to be rude.

“Here you go.” Teddy hands him a neat stack of clothing, boxers, track pants, a white t-shirt, and the green striped sweater that Billy has often longed to feel under his fingers. It's just as soft as he'd thought it would be.

He debates going to the bathroom to change, but decides that would be stupid, and shifts back and forth for a minute before dropping his towel, blushing under Teddy's appreciative gaze. The track pants droop slightly around his hips, and he swallows hard when Teddy takes a heavy step forward to tighten the drawstring for him.

“Thanks,” he breathes, catching Teddy's lips in another long kiss. He pulls the sweater over his head and rubs the sleeve against his cheek. “Mm. I love when you wear this sweater.”

“It looks better on you,” Teddy says fondly, tapping his fingers against Billy's side. “Although,” he continues, slipping his hand up under it to palm at Billy's lower back, “you look pretty good out of it too.”

“Yeah?” Billy grins, letting himself get tugged forward against Teddy's side. He kisses his neck and breathes in the clean smell of boy, with a hint of deodorant. He wants to drown in it. “Anything else?”

“In a suit,” Teddy adds, moaning slightly as Billy sucks on a spot at the base of his throat. “Whenever you drop Tommy off the mornings, on, uh, Mondays, and you're always wearing a suit, with that – _fuck_ – red and black tie, it's so hot, I want to jump your bones every fucking time.” 

Billy tugs Teddy's shirt aside to suck at more skin. This is all his now, he can map it out, claim it with his mouth, his tongue, his hands. He wants all of it, as much as he can possibly take in. He's drunk off Teddy already, overwhelmed by the sheer number of things he wants to do with Teddy, to Teddy – he should make a list, he should have it framed, get it published, make it official. 

“Whoa, okay,” Teddy gasps, pulling back but grabbing Billy's ass hard at the same time. “Fuck, I want – a lot of things, actually, but I have work to do. Sorry,” he sighs, burying his nose in Billy's hair. “I suck.”

Billy thinks it's a sign of great maturity that he doesn't take the bait on that one. “No, it's fine. Puppies are a pretty good excuse.”

“Will you – ” Teddy bites his lip, looking out the window. “Um, I was gonna say 'stay the night', but it's like, four in the afternoon, so.” He laughs and rubs the back of his neck. “Do you want to stay the night? When it becomes nighttime?”

“Definitely,” Billy grins, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I just have to run home and grab some work. Oh, and Tommy's stuff.” Probably a good idea to remember he has a dog to take care of.

Teddy laughs. “Billy, you do realize this is an animal shelter, right?”

“That,” Billy concedes. “Is a good point. Well played. But I still need to get some work, sorry. Big bus ad coming up. It's all very Sex and the City.”

“You're gonna be on the side of a bus?” Teddy whistles. “Can't believe I'm losing you to fame already.”

“Shush,” Billy says, pecking him on the cheek. “I'll obviously still hire you as my pool boy.”

Teddy grins mischievously and grabs at his hip, making Billy squawk in an extremely undignified manner. He squirms away and rushes into the living room, stopping dead when he sees the piles of their soaked clothes, forgotten and probably ruining the floors. “Oops.”

“Oh, right,” Teddy says behind him. “I'll put those in the washer.”

“You have an _in-unit_ washer dryer combo?” Billy turns to gape at him. “How are you real?”

Teddy winks. “I have a whole laundry room, actually.”

“That probably shouldn't turn me on, but it does.”

“The washer,” Teddy says, lowering his voice to a husky whisper, “is _front-load_.”

“I'm like, a little bit hard right now.”

Teddy snorts. “Shut the fuck up.”

“No, seriously,” he says, walking backwards toward the door. “I can feel your high-efficiency laundering power in this sweater. It's so soft, I bet you use the delicates setting in the dryer – oh, hello,” he says, opening the door and looking outside. “It stopped raining.”

Not only that, but the clouds are starting to sweep away across the sky, and there's an enormous rainbow disappearing into one of them, stretching above the skyline. It's beautiful, and hysterically appropriate at this juncture in his life.

A chin on his shoulder tells him Teddy's come up behind him. Billy turns his head slightly and says, “I think the city knows about us.”

Teddy laughs so hard he almost falls over, and Billy represses the desire to just tackle him and kiss him until they both die from oxygen deprivation. With tears in his eyes, Teddy nods. “Gotta be a sign.”

“Yeah, I'll be sure to tell that to Kessler if I run into him,” Billy says darkly.

Teddy stops laughing abruptly. “You should take Tommy with you.”

“No,” Billy waves his hand. “I'll be fine. It's four in the afternoon, like you said. He's not gonna be drunk yet. Worst case scenario; I'll just have to fend off some hate speech.”

“That doesn't make feel any better,” Teddy frowns.

“I'll go faster without Tommy.” He leans forward and kisses Teddy again, still high off the thrill that he can just _do_ that now. “Promise. Back in an hour.”

“I'm sending in a S.W.A.T. Team if you're not,” Teddy calls after him.

***

Teddy's shoes are about a size and a half too big for him, so in spite of the suddenly nicer weather, he ends up taking a cab back to his apartment. The taxi hydroplanes practically the whole way, which Billy can only bring himself to be mildly concerned about.

He's spending the night at _Teddy's_. He's spending the night, in Teddy's bed, with Teddy, and they're going to have amazing, dirty, marathon sex, and Billy's ass is going to be sore as hell in the morning, and it's going to be the absolute best thing in the world. They're going to fall asleep together, and wake up together, and Billy's going to find out if Teddy sleeps naked, or if he wears boxers, or if he has really dorky embarrassing pajamas with penguins on them, and he's going to find out what Teddy's hair looks like when he wakes up, and oh, _shit_ , Teddy's going to find out what _Billy's_ hair looks like when _he_ wakes up. That's not good.

They're going to brush their teeth together. Billy makes a note to pack a toothbrush.

Oh God, he's packing an overnight bag like it's sixth fucking grade. “Stop this,” he says out loud to himself. “Okay, new rule. Nothing that doesn't fit in the briefcase.”

He ends up packing a razor, a toothbrush, hair wax, and an extra pair of boxers. He's got clothes that will soon be clean and dry at Teddy's already, and pajamas are pointless, seeing as he plans to be naked as much as possible. He straightens his apartment, fiddles with his hair in the mirror for a while, has a momentary crisis in which he manages to half-persuade himself that Teddy is actually a figment of his imagination, and then makes the express decision to get out of his apartment before he actually loses his mind.

He's tapping his foot and whistling to himself in the elevator when it stops on the fourth floor. Billy's heart drops to his feet. _No_. The world cannot possibly be this unjust, not even to him, that he would run into Kessler now. Adrenaline seizes in his chest as the doors slide open – and Mr. Jimenez, their grouchy old super, stomps into the elevator, looking even more sour than usual.

He doesn't say a word to Billy, just grunts in his direction, and Billy strongly considers just pretending that he isn't there. Mr. Jimenez has a bad habit of interpreting Billy's polite inquiries about his well-being as the burning desire to know every miserable detail of his life, and because Billy is an idiot and probably insane, he continues to make polite inquiries into Mr. Jimenez's well-being. Even now, as he's earnestly trying not to wonder what it is that's causing his super to scowl so deeply, his mother's voice is sounding inside his head, asking him where on earth his manners are.

He takes a deep breath. “How's it going, Mr. J?”

Mr. Jimenez turns and gives him a beady look. “You really wanna know, 602B?”

 _No_. “Sure,” Billy shrugs, trying to look courteously noncommittal. “You look a little put out about something.”

“Oh, I'm put out all right,” Mr. Jimenez snarls. “Tenant got his stupid ass arrested last night. Gonna be in the slammer for the next month at least, that's what they tell me. A whole goddamn month! He ain't payin' rent there, I tell you that much.”

Billy has no idea what to say, except, “Oh. That sucks.”

“You're tellin' me! Now I gotta haul all his crap out, put it down in lockup. Sell it too, if he don't get out within the month. I don't run no charity, you know? Got my own bills to pay. My own family to feed. It's goddamn disrespectful, is what it is.”

“Totally,” Billy agrees, eyeing the opening elevator doors. He wonders how quickly he can escape. “Well, I promise you don't have to worry about me getting arrested, or anything like that sir. I'm clean as a whistle, scout's honor.”

“You know him? 406A?” Mr. Jimenez asks. “Real punk, if you ask me. No respect, no accountability. Always smoking on the steps, breaking shit in the alley. You ask me, it's no surprise he went and got himself locked up. Boys like that, never any good. I'd be glad he's gone, if I'd gotten the proper notice and that last month's rent.” His frown deepens. “Won't be getting his goddamn security deposit back, I tell you that much.”

 _Kessler_. He's talking about John fucking Kessler. Billy can't believe it. “Wait, do you know what he got arrested for?”

“Sure do,” Mr. Jimenez says grimly. “Idiot got taken in on account of assaulting a goddamn cop. One of New York's finest.” He shakes his head. “They lock you up and throw away the key for that one. I don't got all the details, but it sounds like it ain't the first time he been arrested over something like this.”

“Wow,” Billy says. Okay, so, maybe he can totally believe it. “I'm sorry, Mr. J, that really sucks.” He knows he doesn't sound sorry. He's trying very hard not to smile hugely and whoop out loud. “Let me know if there's anything I can do.”

Oh, he's _definitely_ going to regret saying that. “I gotta go, talk to you later!” he calls, rushing out the door before Mr. Jimenez can tell him another year-long story about his chiropractic woes and somehow talk him into carrying two dozen boxes into the cargo elevator for him.

***

When he arrives back at the shelter, Teddy is immersed in a lively game of tug-of-war with Cassie, while Tommy runs in circles around them and barks. Billy's dog spots him before Teddy does, and bounds over with a delighted yelp, springing up into his arms and licking his face exuberantly.

“Aw, man,” Teddy grins, standing up. “I wanted to do that.”

Billy is suddenly and briefly stunned by the realization that they _say_ things like that to each other now. Tommy wriggles out of his arms, leaving him free to close the space between himself and Teddy and kiss him sloppily on the mouth, rubbing his chin against Teddy's jaw where it's streaked in dog slobber.

“Gross,” Teddy laughs, but he doesn't pull away. “I think this counts as some kind of horrible threesome.”

“Shh,” Billy says, sliding his hands up Teddy's chest. “This is considered the height of romance in some countries, rubbing dog drool on someone's face.”

“In that case; take me, I'm yours.” Teddy nuzzles at his ear and bites the lobe gently. “How was your apartment? You didn't run into that fucking asswipe, did you?”

“Actually,” Billy laughs, and Teddy pulls back to give him a sideways look. “You're gonna love this. I ran into my super on the way out, and apparently Kessler got freaking arrested last night for assaulting a cop. I bet you anything it was the same cops we ran from. He's like, going to jail for a month or some shit.”

Teddy's mouth falls open. “Seriously? That's actually awesome! Not that he assaulted a cop, I mean, that's horrible, but I assume the cops handled themselves okay.”

Billy shrugs. “My super said he had priors, too. I feel like if he'd actually put the guy in the hospital or something, he'd be booked for like, a year.”

“Probably,” Teddy nods. “Well, shit. So he's totally gonna lose his apartment, then.”

“They're cleaning it out already. I'm actually pretty sure they're not legally allowed to do that until they serve him an eviction notice...ah, whatever. I'm obviously not complaining. It's better than he deserves.”

“No kidding,” Teddy says firmly. “Wow, that's. Is it wrong to celebrate? I feel like we should celebrate. Kessler's gone, and Greg's out of my life, and you're wearing my boxers, which I am totally going to enjoy taking off you later, and it's just.” He stares wonderingly at Billy for a moment, and then nudges their foreheads together, sighing deeply. “I'm really happy,” he says finally. “I honestly don't think I've been this happy since before my mom died.”

Billy swallows hard around the lump in his throat. “Me too,” he mumbles, reaching up to place his palm on the side of Teddy's neck. “I still can't believe you're real. I might've had a mini-panic attack back at my place where I decided that I'd actually hallucinated you.”

Teddy grabs at the back of his hair and pulls him in for a long, drawn out open-mouthed kiss that sends Billy's mind reeling. He licks a slow path around the inside of Billy's mouth, traces orbits around Billy's tongue with his own, and finishes with a slow, deliberate tug of his teeth on Billy's lower lip. “That convince you?”

“Um,” Billy says, blinking dazedly. “No, not really, I don't think it's actually possible for anyone to be that good of a kisser. I'm definitely passed out in an opium den somewhere right now.” He feels a stupid smile spread across his face. “You're totally welcome to keep trying, though.”

Teddy snorts. “Brat.”

“Mm, but yes, celebration. Let's do that.” Tommy has flopped onto his back over Billy's feet in an unsubtle request for belly rubs, and Billy sits down to oblige. “What did you have in mind?”

“ _Well_ ,” Teddy replies with a wink.

“Done.”

“We could go out?”

Billy makes a face.

“Or stay in? Honestly, I'd rather stay in, if that's what you want to do.”

“It's a Saturday night, of course I want to stay in,” Billy grins. “I'm a party animal, remember?”

“Right. God, we're lame. How would you feel about...Chinese? There's a place down the block that does General Tso's like nobody's business.”

“You are speaking my language,” Billy nods. “Movie?”

“Movie...marathon, maybe?” Teddy looks at his shoes. “I, uh, sort of collect old Bond movies, I have the entire Roger Moore set...”

“Holy fuck,” Billy says. “You are literally perfect.”

“I just feel like _Moonraker_ didn't get the praise it deserved, you know?”

“Dude, you're preaching to the choir. It baffles me to this day that _A View to a Kill_ was never named the most influential movie of the 20th century. No accounting for taste, I guess.”

“All right,” Teddy grins, clapping his hands together. “Get your party hat, Billy Kaplan. Tonight we are celebrating.”

Tommy barks and stretches back, letting his tongue flop onto the ground as he pants contentedly. Billy laughs. “Yeah, me too, buddy,” he says softly, thumping his hand on Tommy's soft white chest. He looks up at Teddy, beaming down at them, biting his lip like he has to physically rein in his happiness, and Billy feels it swelling in his own chest, overwhelming and bright, like a contagion making him irrationally and wholeheartedly in love with everything in his entire life.

“I think this must be how dogs feel all the time,” he declares, looking back at Tommy.

Teddy laughs. “It's good to be them. I,” he says, kneeling down and taking hold of Billy's chin, “am going to feed the cats, and lock up the front, and then – ” he pauses to kiss Billy, “ – we will celebrate.”

Billy's stomach growls loudly in response. It's nice, he supposes, that during the abrupt shift of his whole world into total perfection and bliss, that some things have remained constant. Maybe all of this is really happening after all.


	8. Chapter 8

“You can _not_ be serious.” Amanda gapes between them. “If I wasn't fundamentally opposed to wasting perfectly good alcohol, I would spit this champagne all over you.”

“Cheers to upstanding values,” Billy grins, clinking his and Teddy's glasses together. “Sorry, Amanda. Battle of the Ryans, Gosling wipes the floor with Reynolds.”

“It's no contest,” Teddy agrees solemnly. “I'm a little surprised there's even debate about this.”

“Um, sure, if the contest is 'weirdest-looking',” she protests, casting around for a bottle. “God, I assumed you two had taste, because, you know,” she gestures between them, “but obviously this is just luck, your hotness detectors are totally defective.”

“ _I_ have taste,” Billy says, nudging Teddy with his elbow affectionately. “Jury's still out on this one.”

Teddy groans and slumps back against the wall dramatically. “I never said Pauly Shore was _attractive_ , I said he was _funny_.”

“I believe your exact words were – ”

“Bus! Bus!” Donald points excitedly at the window. Everyone rushes forward and Billy darts to the doorframe, iPhone in his hand. 

“Is it ours?” Jesse asks, somewhere behind him. Someone squeezes Billy's hip; he hopes it's Teddy. The bus's brakes screech unpleasantly as it rolls up to the stop in front of the bar, and Billy cranes his neck to see over the line of people waiting for it. The banner advertisement on its side reads: _Goodman, Lieber, Kurtzberg, & Book: Attorneys at Law_.

“Not us,” Billy calls behind him. “False alarm. Everyone resume drinking.”

Someone says, “You heard the man!” and then there's another touch at Billy's hip, this time _definitely_ from Teddy.

“So,” he says, voice low and eyes sparkling. Billy's gut twists in a familiar falling sensation. As luck would have it, one whole month of gazing unrepentantly into those blue eyes has none absolutely nothing to lessen their borderline-crippling effect on him. Fortunately, Teddy doesn't seem to mind. “This is fun.”

“I'm glad you could get away,” Billy murmurs, squeezing his hand. “See? I told you hiring someone part-time would come in handy.”

“Laura's pretty great,” Teddy nods. “I'm sorry Ben couldn't make it today.”

Billy's little brother has been volunteering at the shelter on Fridays after school, and on Sundays with Tuan. Billy's not convinced it's actually less work for Teddy to supervise them, but Laura Kinney, his new employee, is definitely taking some of the weight off. She's even adopted Logan; took him home with her after her very first day, much to Billy's relief, because try as he might, that mangy dog just would _not_ warm up to him. 

“Okay, but also,” Amanda says, popping up next to them and refilling their glasses, “I'm surprised to hear you guys take the Reynolds stance, because he was in that superhero movie! You know, about green comets or whatever. You guys are into that shit, right?”

Teddy gives Billy a look. “Exactly what I'd expect to hear from a Reynolds fan.”

“Yeah, you're not doing yourself any favors here,” Billy agrees, taking a sip from his glass. “Oh, whoa, that's _good_. What is that?”

She shrugs. “Dunno. The bottle was two hundred bucks, though, so enjoy!”

Billy chokes on his next sip. “What?”

“Don't kill yourself over it, Kaplan. Marvel can afford it.”

“If I could have everyone's attention!” Fernando's deep voice booms from the back of the bar. “Yes, even you, random bar patrons. You should hear this too.”

Everyone turns. Billy feels the tips of his ears go red in anticipation.

“As you know, we are gathered here today at this most happy of hours to celebrate the recent successes of some of our best and brightest.” Fernando beams out at Billy and Jesse. “I want to congratulate everyone on my team for their outstanding work, but I want to especially congratulate Billy Kaplan and Jesse Frankel for showing so much initiative with this campaign. You guys are gonna love the bus ad. It's...” he pauses and throws out an exaggerated wink, “ _Super_.”

Billy groans. “Oh my God.”

“To Billy and Jesse!”

Everyone raises their glasses, and Teddy and Jesse clink flutes enthusiastically before leaning in and giving Billy very wet kisses on either cheek. He thinks he might die from embarrassment, but he manages to clear his throat and raise his own glass.

“Um, I'd just also like to point out that without Fernando, this whole thing never could've happened, he's the one who carried us through this whole process and believed in us to get this campaign wrapped. We're really lucky – ”

“Bus! Bus!”

Everyone rushes to the front of the bar again.

“That's not even a city bus,” Jesse sighs, gesturing to the bus passing by the window. “Sorry, Billy.”

“No, it's okay, I was probably about to say something dumb,” Billy says, shaking his head. “I hate public speaking. I never know how to actually finish; I just keep talking.”

“To be fair, it's a bar full of drunk advertisers, they'd probably never notice,” Jesse reasons. He frowns at something over Billy's shoulder. “Oh, God. Taylor's ordering dessert shots.”

Billy turns. “That's not gonna end well.”

“Don't let me drink anymore after this, or I'll be asleep on the floor,” Jesse says tiredly, taking a small sip from his glass. “I'm running on like five hours total this week, I swear.”

“Oh yeah, you're the one with the new baby!” Teddy grins. “Billy's showed me pictures, she's adorable. How's that going?”

Jesse smiles dazedly. “Amazing. Terrifying. I don't really recommend it at all if you're into sleeping.”

Teddy nods sympathetically. “Yeah, my friend's kid didn't sleep through the night until he was like, two. It's rough.”

“She's actually a pretty good sleeper, I just am physically unable to leave her room,” Jesse says sheepishly. “And I don't want to put her down, either. Thea's handling it a lot better than me.”

Teddy has a funny expression on his face, and something tightens in Billy's chest when he recognizes it as the wistful look Teddy gets when he's talking about his own father, the parent he can't even remember. He nudges Teddy's hand with his and says, “You should definitely have Thea bring Sophie to the office one of these days.”

“Yeah, I keep telling her that,” Jesse laughs. “She thinks I'm trying to get in on her mom time. Which, fair enough.” He puts a hand on Billy's shoulder and grins mischievously. “ _I'm_ just excited you finally brought Teddy to one of these things.”

“I know, I was so bummed I had to work during the last one,” Teddy sighs. “It sounded really fun.”

“No, you don't understand. We've been hearing about you for like, _months_. For a while it was almost to the betting-pool stage – what? I would've bet on you,” he says to the aghast look on Billy's face. “Donald was the only one who didn't think you'd seal the deal. Cynical bastard.”

Teddy looks delighted. “Months, huh?”

“Oh, man. You should've seen him; it was pathetic.”

“I hate you,” Billy groans. “Come on, I wasn't _that_ bad.”

“Billy, you literally got disfigured by a cat to impress him.”

“It _was_ very impressive,” Teddy agrees, shooting Billy a wicked look. “Wow, and I totally thought all that time you were just using me for my dog expertise.”

“And that was before the pining started,” Jesse adds.

“I hate you _both_.”

“Once, he got a text from you and spazzed so hard he dropped his phone in a bowl of hummus.”

“I didn't even tell you who that text was from!”

Jesse rolls his eyes. “Right, you were _very_ mysterious about the whole thing.”

Billy turns to Teddy. “I take it all back. You're never coming to work parties with me ever again.”

“ _Bus_!”

Jesse glances at his watch. “Shit, I think this might actually be us.”

Billy hears a squeal, and hopes valiantly that it did not actually come from him.

“I can see it!” someone calls. “There's definitely a big cape!”

Billy grabs Teddy's hand. “That's us!”

“Go, go!”

He and Jesse run outside, followed closely by Teddy and half the bar. The bus is pulling into the stop, and Billy's breath catches in his throat at how damn _good_ their ad looks. Jesse kept the design simple; a black and grey outline of a man flying through the air, and a woman behind him with a streaming red cape that travels the length of the bus; the only color in the banner. Over the cape, Shield's logo is displayed, and there are Billy's words, his first, real, honest to God proof of autonomy and accomplishment in his adult life.

_**YOU** SAVE THE WORLD._

_**SHIELD** MAKES IT POSSIBLE._

“Quick!” Teddy shouts, holding up his phone. “Get in front of it!”

Billy and Jesse dart in front of the bus and stand at either end of the banner. The bus creaks to signify that it's about to embark, and Billy makes a quick frame with his hands, dimly aware that he looks like a complete idiot.

“Got it!”

The bus pulls away, and Billy catches a grouchy glare from the driver. “Thanks for running my ad!” he yells, waving exuberantly. He motions to Teddy. “Let's see it.”

Teddy looks like he's trying very hard not to laugh. “Oh, it's a keeper.”

Billy looks stupid, as expected, gesturing to the banner with his arms wide apart, mouth hanging half open in a dumb, goofy grin. Jesse, in contrast, is completely stone-faced, pursing his lips and crossing his arms high up on his chest in some sort of “Thug Life”-esque pose.

“Wow,” Billy says. “Just stick a fedora on there and you're set.”

“Awesome,” Jesse grins, thumping Teddy on the back. “Send that to me, will you? Billy has my number.”

“You got it,” Teddy nods, reaching into Billy's back pocket and retrieving his phone.

“Wait, wait, let me see!” Fernando calls, jogging over. “If it's a good one, it should go on the website!”

Teddy offers him the phone.

“Hmm.” He frowns. “No, Billy, you look about fourteen here. I don't want to project the image that we support child labor. And Frankel looks like he should be wearing an Ed Hardy shirt.”

“I've seen _you_ wear Ed Hardy,” Billy points out.

Fernando narrows his eyes. “I swear, when I finally find those pictures of Taylor in headgear, she'll wish she never circulated those ones of me in college. I know they're in storage somewhere.” He sighs, and then smiles widely. “You two don't have drinks! Come on, Amanda can't bankrupt the company all by herself.”

Half an hour later, the bar has brought out platters of impossibly delicious chicken skewers that they've each eaten about a billion of, and Billy's head is swimming with champagne and residual excitement. His first ad, a _success_. And Teddy being here to see it – it's all just perfect. He can hardly believe his luck. 

“I like your co-workers,” Teddy says, brushing their knuckles together on top of the table. “I have no idea how you guys get anything done, but they're all pretty cool.”

“It shouldn't work, but it does,” Billy shrugs. “Oh – thanks, yeah, we're done,” he says to a hovering waiter. A _cute_ hovering waiter. He catches Teddy's eye, and knows they're both thinking it.

“Cool party,” the waiter observes, collecting their glasses. “You guys are from Marvel?”

“Yep, just wrapped on a big campaign,” Billy says, attempting the ad-game swagger he's seen his superiors throw around. The look he gets from Teddy tells him it was probably a near miss.

“Right on,” the waiter says. “Uh, not to put you on the spot, but do you happen to know if he,” he points at Fernando, “is like, with anybody?”

Billy accidentally stabs himself in the mouth with his chicken skewer. “Oh, uh, no, I don't...think so? Not right now, anyways.” He chews, swallows. “Yeah, no, you should totally go for it.”

The waiter grins. “Thanks, man.”

“Sure, anytime.” He presses his hand to the side of his face as the waiter walks away. “ _Ow_. I think I grievously injured myself.”

Teddy smirks and slides Billy's phone back into his pocket, _very_ slowly. “You need someone to kiss it better?”

“Among other things,” he replies, leaning in and catching Teddy's lips with his. “Mm. You taste like chicken.”

“Ah, yes, that's what all the boys say,” Teddy laughs.

Billy nips his lower lip, gently. “Better not.”

“ _Ugh_ , get a room,” Amanda groans, slapping her hand down on their table. “We're moving down the block to Ocho; they've got dollar tacos and killer margs.”

“I just literally ate my weight in chicken,” Teddy says remorsefully. “I don't think I could do dollar tacos if I tried.”

Billy glances at Teddy's watch. “Yeah, we actually have to go anyways, sorry. Gotta pick up my dog.”

Amanda snorts. “Is that what they're calling it these days?”

“Ha, ha. Hey, thanks for coming.” Billy reaches out and bumps her fist with his. “I know you're totally swamped with that Broxton-Asgardia merger right now.”

“It's actually not as bad as I thought it would be; Broxton's webmaster is super competent. And I'm pretty sure he has a crush on me,” she grins. “Probably gonna head back to the office after this, though. I do some of my best coding after a pitcher of margs, I swear.”

“You're an inspiration to us all,” Billy says solemnly. Teddy burps, and nods his agreement.

They say goodbye to Jesse, Fernando, and everyone else they run into on their way to the door. Then they're in a cab, suddenly exhausted despite the fact that it's only six, and Billy finds Teddy's broad shoulder to be a more than acceptable resting spot.

“You feeling okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” Billy mumbles, opening his eyes. “Just tired.”

“You're not coming down with that thing Ben has?” Teddy's palm goes to his forehead, and Billy bats it away indignantly.

“I'm fine, _Mom_.” He rolls his eyes at Teddy's mock-wounded expression. “It's just been a long week. I was like, cracked out with excitement over seeing the bus ad, and then I saw it, and,” he lets his hand plummet down fingers-first into his lap. “I can die happy now. I've made my mark upon the world.”

Teddy laughs. “Yeah, you've made your mark upon a city bus. Call me when the billboard debuts.”

Billy gives a halfhearted attempt at an outraged gasp. “Just you wait, next month I'll have a fleet of cab toppers, and then you'll be eating your words.”

“I'm just kidding,” Teddy murmurs, nuzzling his hair. “I'm so proud of you. Can't believe my boyfriend's an ad game superstar.”

“Only douchebags call it that,” Billy mumbles back, craning his head around to press his nose into the side of Teddy's neck. “Douchebags and Jesse.”

“Well, no dying yet, okay? We're almost at your parents'.”

“So demanding,” Billy sighs. “You tax me, Teddy Altman.”

“I feel like I'm supposed to be annoyed when you're like this, but you're so fucking adorable, I just want to bite you or something.”

Billy can't see Teddy's face, but he can hear the fondness in his voice, and it makes his chest ache for how ridiculously in love he is with this boy. It defies logic that Teddy should find Billy attractive when he's pathetic and mopey and obnoxious, it's contrary to all working laws of life and the universe that a spastic nerd like himself could be worthy of the endless, encompassing compassion and warmth that is Teddy, but somehow, he found a loophole, and Teddy's arms are around _him_ , and Teddy's lips are against _his_ ear, a sign as sure as any that the fabric of reality is starting to dissolve and the end of the world will soon be upon them.

But, fuck if Billy's gonna complain about it.

“We're here,” Teddy says as the cab starts to slow. “You need me to carry you up? We could try bridal style; I've always secretly wanted to do that.”

“It has some appeal, I won't lie,” Billy yawns, straightening up and rolling his shoulders back. “Let's save it for a special occasion. I'll try to pretend I'm an adult for at least the next thirty minutes.”

“Lofty goals you're setting there, Kaplan,” Teddy grins. He hands a few bills to the driver and watches bemusedly as Billy shuffles up the steps to – the wrong building.

“Not a word,” he warns, joining Teddy on the correct stoop. “I told you, it's been a long week.”

“I wasn't going to say a thing,” Teddy replies. He waves to Nelson, who buzzes them in right away.

“Theodore, my boy!”

“Nelson, my _man_.” Teddy holds out his hand and Nelson grips it firmly. “You're killing me with those triple word scores.”

“Ah.” Nelson winks and pulls a pocket dictionary out from behind his desk. “Been studying up in my spare time. Should've seen the score I pulled over on my granddaughter. And she's gettin' ready for those SATs.”

“Yeah, go ahead and get cocky,” Teddy says slyly. “You'll get sloppy eventually. And that's when I'll strike, so watch yourself.”

Nelson raises an eyebrow at Billy. “You see the way he talks to this old man?”

“He's just jealous,” Billy stage-whispers. “And he's bitter because I beat his high score at _Temple Run_ last night.”

Nelson laughs uproariously, shaking his head and hitting the button for the elevator. “You boys are too much. Watch out for that brother of yours, Billy. He's looked better.”

“I hope you know I am gonna beat that score like, eight times tonight,” Teddy says as they get in the elevator. “Laura's closing up, so I'm gonna have nothing but time.”

“Yeah, dream on,” Billy smirks. “If Nelson's not too busy wiping the floor with you. I still can't believe you play _Words With Friends_ with my parents' doorman.”

“He is unreasonably good,” Teddy frowns. “One of these days I'll catch him cheating, and then we'll see who the true master is.”

Billy pats his shoulder supportively. “Yes, dear, I'm sure you will.”

Teddy makes a face at him and then perks up as the elevator doors swing open to his parents' floor. “Mm, smells like your mom's cooking.”

“It's strategic,” Billy says. “She just releases food aromas into the hall to entice us.”

Teddy makes an indistinct noise of longing and drifts towards the door with his arms outstretched.

“You're playing right into her hand!”

They ring the doorbell, and Billy expects to hear Tommy barking, or at least the scrabbling of claws on the floor, but Jordan opens it instead, looking tired and a little worn around the edges.

“T-Dog!” he exclaims, extending his fist for Teddy to bump. “Good to see you, man. Come on in.”

Billy follows Teddy through the door and smacks Jordan on the back of the head.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“Hi Jordan, it is I, your beloved big brother,” Billy says sarcastically. “Remember me?”

“Kinda rings a bell,” Jordan scowls, rubbing his head. “Not sure, I think I might have brain damage.” His face breaks into a grin. “Nah, I'm just kidding. You have really delicate hands, Billy, that was kind of a caress.”

Billy's about to fire back with something devastatingly witty, but then Jordan starts coughing raucously, and he shares a worried glance with Teddy. “Oh, man, not you too.”

“Nah, I'm getting over it. Ben has it way worse.” Jordan tries for a smirk, but coughs again before it's fully formed. “Ugh. I'm at the drainage phase, I think.”

“Gross.” Billy wrinkles his nose. “I'm gonna go wash my hand.”

Teddy looks around. “Where's Tommy?”

“Teddy! Billy! I didn't hear you come in!” Billy's mother comes charging around the corner, looking remarkably casual in yoga pants and the Columbia sweatshirt Billy bought her for Mother's Day six years ago. She hugs them both. “You've _got_ to come see Tommy and your brother. It's the most precious thing I've ever seen.”

They follow her to Ben's room, where Billy's brother, looking absolutely haggard and miserable, is propped up against a stack of pillows, with Tommy curled protectively around him under the covers. As they approach, Billy sees Tommy's tail thumping frantically beneath the blankets.

“Oh, God,” he says, pulling out his phone and snapping a picture. “That is just.”

Ben groans pathetically. “No, go away. You can't have him.”

“He's been like that _all_ afternoon,” Rebecca says to Billy in a low voice. “I walked him around lunchtime, and then he went right into bed with Ben and hasn't moved for anything.”

Tommy lifts his head up and licks Ben's chin, as if to prove her point.

Billy turns to Teddy as his mother heads back down the hall. “Remember when we couldn't even get him to sit still for food?”

Teddy nods. “I remember worse than that.” He elbows Billy. “Check you out, successful dog owner.”

“Oh, yeah, sure, let me just take all the credit. Not like you _trained_ him or anything,” Billy says dryly. “He'd probably have blown up by now if it wasn't for you.”

“We did it together,” Teddy allows, smiling at Billy in that slow, genuine way he has that makes Billy's knees want to give out.

Ben makes a gagging noise. “You guys are gross, get out of my room.”

“ _You're_ gross, you're getting snot all over my dog,” Billy retorts, but then he gets a reproachful look from Teddy and feels guilty. “I'm sorry, Ben, that was mean.” He walks over and pats Tommy's head, looking his brother over sympathetically. “Poor kid. You look like crap.”

“Mom said my fever broke a little while ago,” Ben croaks. “I _hate_ this. I can't do anything.”

Acting on impulse, Billy reaches over and pushes his hair back. It's damp with sweat, but his brother shivers when he takes his hand away.

“You need anything, Ben?” Teddy asks from the foot of the bed. “Want us to get you some soup?”

Ben shakes his head. “Can't swallow. Hurts.”

Billy frowns. “Aw, buddy. That's no good.” He bites his lip and glances at Teddy. “I'm really sorry, but we gotta take Tommy now. He needs his dinner and stuff.”

“I hate you so much.”

Billy sighs and pats the blankets, assuming his brother's body is buried underneath them somewhere. “I know. Being sick is the worst.”

Ben grumbles and rolls over, closing his eyes.

“Tommy!” Billy whistles shortly and stands up. His dog's head appears over Ben's side, ears pricked. “Come on, boy, let's go.”

Tommy whines.

“I know, you're a good boy, but we gotta go home. Don't you want to go home?”

He doesn't move. “Go out? You wanna go to the park, Tommy? Yeah, the _park_?”

“Billy,” Teddy reproves. “Don't lie to him.”

It works, though. Tommy wriggles out of the covers and bounds over to Billy, tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth and tail wagging hopefully.

“He likes going for cab rides; it'll be just as exciting for him,” Billy says confidently, ruffling his dog behind the ears. “Do you like going for cab rides? Oh, yes you do!”

“Billy?” Ben's voice is barely audible, muffled against his pillow. “Can you ask Mom to get me another blanket?”

“I'll go ask her,” Teddy offers, turning and stepping out of the room at once.

“Feel better, man,” Billy says. “I'll bring Tommy back tomorrow to keep you company, okay?”

“Okay,” Ben mutters. “Thanks, Billy.”

It's hard for him not to lean down and give his poor, sick little brother a kiss on the forehead, but coming down with the flu in the middle of his first big campaign would be an absolute disaster, so he settles for stroking Ben's hair and tucking it behind his ear.

In the kitchen, Rebecca is making chicken soup, even though Ben can't eat very much. “I can't thank you boys enough for bringing Tommy over,” she says, tasting the stock. “Your poor brother was shivering all night, no matter how many blankets I put on him. He only stopped when Tommy got into bed with him.”

Teddy makes a sympathetic noise, and Billy reaches down to rub a knuckle on Tommy's head. “We'll bring him back tomorrow, if Ben's still feeling like crap.”

“Are _you_ feeling okay, Rebecca?” Teddy asks, knitting his brows together. “Can't be easy, having a house full of sick kids.”

Billy's mother gives him such a warm look in response that Billy's chest feels tight, almost suffocating. He knows his whole family loves Teddy, possibly more than they love him at this point, but he never gets tired of seeing the way his mother _looks_ at Teddy, like they're connected on some deep, spiritual level. He gets the impression that they understand each other, the way his mother knew about Teddy before he even had a clue, the way Teddy always seems to know just what to say to her.

“I'm very well, actually, thank you for asking, Teddy,” Rebecca smiles. “I took yesterday and today off from work to stay home with Ben, and it's been very restful.” She pats a stack of papers next to her. “Spent all afternoon doing some much-needed catching up on bills.”

Teddy wrinkles his nose, and Billy's heart thuds unevenly. “That doesn't sound restful at all.”

Rebecca laughs. “I don't know what it is, but paperwork has always been relaxing for me. My father was an accountant; it might be genetic.”

“Well, hey, if you ever need to veg out, you can always come update the files at the shelter,” Teddy grins. “Lord knows they need it. I'm awful at keeping up with paperwork.”

She crouches down and scratches Tommy vigorously behind the ears. “Well, you have more important things to be doing, don't you?”

It might be the residual champagne buzz, but Billy's imagination is suddenly extremely occupied thinking about several things that are far more important for Teddy to be doing than paperwork, and none of them involve his duties at the shelter.

“Will you boys stay for dinner?” his mother asks, standing up and going to the kitchen sink to wash her hands. “It's nothing fancy; Jeff is picking up Thai on his way home from work.”

Teddy raises an eyebrow at him – they both have a profound appreciation for noodles, and despite having gorged himself on chicken skewers earlier, Billy is starting to feel like he could eat again.

However.

“I wish we could,” he says, before Teddy can reply, “but we have dinner plans already. Um, with friends. It's a couples thing.” Totally unnecessary to add that last part, but whatever. Teddy frowns a little, but he doesn't contradict him.

“Oh! How nice,” Rebecca smiles. “Anyone I know?”

“No, it's just a couple friends from work. Kate and Eli,” he says, feeling his cheeks redden slightly. He's being an idiot, but Teddy is ridiculously attractive with his mouth slightly open and a tiny pucker between his brows, and it's severely impeding Billy's ability to lie, or speak at all.

“Well, have fun,” his mother says, hugging him and kissing his cheek. “I'll call you tomorrow and let you know if we need Nurse Tommy again.”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Billy agrees as she hugs Teddy. Tommy strains at the end of his leash at the door; Billy doesn't know how long it's been since he's gone outside, but he's probably about to burst. “See you! Have fun with bills!”

Once they're in the elevator, Teddy turns to him and says, “So, we're having a couples dinner with Kate and Eli tonight?” His eyes are sparkling, and Billy tightens his hand on Tommy's leash, blushing. “I wish I'd known; I would've had my suit dry-cleaned.”

“I don't think that'll be necessary,” Billy grins, stepping closer. “It's not really that kind of couples thing.”

Teddy grins back, the dimples in his cheeks deepening gorgeously, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I was thinking we could actually do our own thing, you know, a little more intimate, a little less clothing.” He plants his feet between Teddy's, leaving just a breath of space between their bodies. A strand of Teddy's hair has fallen in front of his ear; Billy pushes it back and runs his fingers down the row of silver cuffs. “Um. Pretend I said something really seductive just now, you're kind of breaking my brain.” 

Teddy stares at him dazedly, then tugs him forward by his belt loops and pushes their mouths together, hungry and urgent. He groans, and Billy feels it echo in his own chest, open want, the dizzying lack of inhibition he's come to associate with the shape of Teddy's body against his. He's dimly aware that the elevator is moving, that they'll have to disentangle and get off when it reaches the ground floor, that there are things happening in the world that are ostensibly worthy of notice beyond the slide of Teddy's tongue across his, the warm press of Teddy's hand at the small of his back, the swell of Teddy's lower lip between his teeth, but that's the magic of _Teddy_ , that his mere presence renders everything else in Billy's surroundings utterly inconsequential.

Everything, of course, except Tommy, who facilitates their separation when he practically rips Billy's arm out of his socket bolting through the elevator doors the instant they open.

***

“Billy.” Teddy's voice is soft, strained. “Look at me.”

Billy realizes his eyes are squeezed shut, and opens them with some effort. He has one palm splayed across his stomach, wrist locked, arm tense, and his other hand is fisted in Teddy's sheets, sweating into the cotton. His breath is coming in shallow, rapid pants, there's a not-quite-enough tingle that keeps shooting up his spine, and his ankles are over Teddy's shoulders, shaking slightly as Teddy rolls his fingers inside him slowly, deliberately. Teddy's got some music going, something mellow and indie that he doesn't recognize, and it's setting a easy, gentle tone, making Billy feel as alive and undone as he ever has.

Teddy's fingers slide out again, and Billy clenches down on the tips, watching Teddy draw unsteady breath as he does. It's taking every ounce of willpower he's got not to lock his ankles behind Teddy's head and pull him closer, feel the juts of Teddy's hipbones against his ass and the length of Teddy's cock filling him up, stretching him to that place somewhere between satisfying and overwhelming. His hand twitches against his stomach as he thinks about it, and then he tips his head back and groans when Teddy pushes back in with another finger.

“Oh,” he gasps. “Jesus – yeah – _shit_ , Teddy.” It's too much, it's not enough. A fresh wave of heat blasts through his body, and the sheets clutched in his hand get damper. The tip of his cock grazes against his fingers, wet, and he squeezes his eyes shut again. “Fuck. I think I'm ready for it.”

Teddy grunts something indecipherable and then slips a hand under Billy's ass, pulling him closer, and Billy feels a surge of lightheadedness at the hot weight of Teddy's cock against his entrance. He's needy, aching for it, he thinks fleetingly that he might actually die if Teddy doesn't get the fuck _inside_ him already.

“Please,” he says. “Teddy. I need it, I need you.” He glances up to see Teddy's gaze fixated between his legs, watching himself ease in, eyes wide and lips parted.

When he bottoms out, Billy lets out the breath he's been holding and lets a wave of relief and something like bliss wash over him. It almost hurts, but it's so _good_ , it's absolutely right, meant to be, as though Teddy's always been a part of him, the piece he didn't know he was missing. Teddy reaches forward and touches his face, gentle and reverent, and Billy turns his head to kiss his palm.

“I love you.”

“Love you too,” Billy murmurs back, rocking his hips experimentally, enjoying the way Teddy's fingers stutter against his chin.

“ – _Fuck_. Warn a guy,” Teddy gasps, his other hand tightening on Billy's hip reflexively. “I'm gonna move. God, you feel amazing.”

Billy says, “Teddy,” and then Teddy's rolling his hips, sliding in and out of him, reshaping him, pushing pathetic little noises out of him with every thrust. Billy's cock jumps against his stomach, leaving wet smears under his naval, but he doesn't touch himself, chooses instead to push himself up with his elbows, angling his pelvis so Teddy's brushing up against his prostate steadily. Teddy grabs him by his thighs and pulls their bodies snugly together, inclining his head to suck a mark on the underside of Billy's knee. 

“Oh, fuck,” Billy moans, throwing his head back. Every single nerve in his body is lit up, with every snap of Teddy's hips against his, a lick of fire blazes in his stomach. He can't look at Teddy without losing it, but he can picture exactly how he looks right now, pupils blown wide, neck straining with effort, chest damp with sweat, hair dripping onto his face. He can hear the clench of Teddy's jaw and the grit of his teeth in the sounds he makes, he can feel in the weight of Teddy's balls how incredibly ready he is to come.

“Billy,” Teddy rasps, “ _fuck_ , Billy, you're so fucking – you have no idea, Jesus Christ, I can't – ”

Billy's eyes are wet. He says, “ _Teddy_ ,” again, desperately, the only thing he knows how to say anymore, the only thing that matters. “Teddy, I need – ”

Teddy understands, reaching forward and wrapping a sure hand around him, fucking him earnestly now, rhythm gone out the window, upper body falling forward and surrounding him. The soaked tips of his hair brush against Billy's forehead, his breath is hot against Billy's jaw. Billy feels the tight clench of pleasure in his gut, a tidal wave, a star going supernova, something he could never contain, and then Teddy's thumb drags under the head of his cock, and he comes with a shout – a _lot_ of shouts – curses, mostly, some nonsense, and Teddy's name, embarrassingly high-pitched. Seconds later, Teddy seizes inside him, and he pushes all the way down on Teddy's cock, feeling the telltale throb of Teddy emptying himself inside him, making the best kind of claim. 

“No, wait,” he breathes as Teddy lifts his head to move. “Just – just a minute.” He holds Teddy inside him, presses his nose into the divot at the base of Teddy's throat. His skin is tingling, raw with aftershock, even the tips of his fingers feel oversensitive as they rest lightly on Teddy's shoulders.

Teddy breathes against his hair, waiting patiently. After a moment, Billy unlocks his ankles and lets his legs fall next to Teddy's. “Okay. I'm good now.”

“Mm.” Teddy noses his cheek and kisses him next to his ear. “Just good?”

“Uh.” Billy wants to rub his eyes, but his arms feel very heavy. “The English language is inadequate. You know that scene, in um. What's that movie.” He swallows, and Teddy slumps sideways to lie next to him. “ _Pleasantville_. Where Joan Allen and Jeff Daniels finally do it, and when they wake up, everything around them is in color?”

Teddy nods. “Sure.”

“I'm that.”

“You know that scene is like, a metaphor for Original Sin, right?”

Billy snorts. “How appropriate.”

“Hey, you said it.” Teddy grins. “Speaking of, you know what movie we should totally watch?”

“Please don't say _The Ten Commandments_.”

“No, I was gonna say _Speed_. What's your beef with Heston?”

“My parents used to make us watch it every Passover. Traumatic childhood memories.” Billy pushes himself further up on the pillows. “Where did _Speed_ come from? Was Keanu Reeves the guy who first 'tempted' you?” He raises his eyebrows teasingly.

“Uh, _no_ , actually,” Teddy laughs, interlacing their fingers on top of the blanket. “Jeff Daniels is in it, that's why I thought of it. Also, it's awesome.” He glances shrewdly at Billy. “Why, did _you_ used to get off to Keanu?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny that I had a certain... _reaction_ to the first Matrix,” Billy says slowly. “He wasn't my first, though.”

“Should've known I was just the latest in a long line of Teds,” Teddy sighs.

“You should also know, I was going to make an 'excellent' joke when you asked if I was just good, but I managed to refrain.”

Teddy bursts out laughing. “I'm actually shocked we haven't done that yet.”

“Yeah,” Billy grins. “Seems like kind of an oversight.”

“Definitely.” Teddy looks at their hands, and then back at Billy. “So, who _was_ your first?”

“No.”

“Come on! I'll tell you mine. I bet it's worse.”

“There is no actual way yours is worse,” Billy shakes his head.

“Mine was Han Solo.”

“That's not even bad! _Or_ creative,” Billy protests. “But yeah, okay, Han and Fox Mulder are both up there. No, mine is way worse. I'm not telling.”

“Tell me-e-e-e,” Teddy whines, gently shaking Billy's shoulder. “Tell me, and I'll give you a scalp massage in the shower.”

“That is a completely unfair tactic! You can't resort to bribery, it says so clearly in the Boyfriend Rules,” Billy argues.

Teddy pouts.

“Fine. It was Nick Carter,” he mumbles into his pillow.

“What?”

He turns his face towards Teddy and glowers. “ _Nick Carter_ , and if you say _any_ thing, I will leave right now and never come back.”

“As in – ”

“ _Yes_ , okay? I was like, eight, jeez. Give me a break.”

“That's actually really cute,” Teddy grins. “Is that why you like it when I sing to you?”

“ _No_. And I no longer like it when you sing to me. Never sing again.”

“ _Bill_ ,” Teddy croons, pulling him by both hands into a sitting position. “ _I love you so, I always will_.”

“I'm going to poison your coffee.”

“What's your favorite Backstreet Boys song?”

“It's, 'Shut Your Stupid Face, Teddy Altman'.”

“Huh.” Teddy frowns. “Don't know that one. Must be a Nick Carter solo.”

Billy's opening his mouth to deliver a crushing retort when his stomach lets out a thunderous rumble, echoing around the room and making Teddy's eyes widen.

“Wow, Billy. You don't say.”

Billy's suddenly and powerfully struck by how famished he is. “I need sustenance to continue this argument.”

Teddy looks amazed. “You have the freakiest metabolism of anyone I know. We each ate a year's supply of chicken skewers like, three hours ago.”

“ _Hungry_.”

“Okay, okay. C'mon, weirdo, shower first. Bodily fluids are not dining attire, even in New York.”

Billy holds up a finger. “They are if we order pizza.”

“That,” Teddy says, “is actually a good point. But I still think we should probably rinse off.”

Billy nods. “I'll get the shower going; you call Zeke's.”

“Large sausage sound okay?” Teddy winks. “But seriously.”

“You should order it just like that,” Billy laughs, making his way to the bathroom. “Oh! And get garlic bread.”

“The cheesy kind?” Teddy calls.

“You say that like there's another kind,” Billy calls back. “Okay, turning the water on. I trust you.”

A few minutes later, Teddy's arms wrap around him from behind, and lips he's had memorized for weeks nip at his ear.

“I got two orders of cheesy garlic bread,” Teddy murmurs, sliding his hand up Billy's stomach. “Since I figured you'll be hungry again halfway through the movie.”

Billy moans. “That's the sexiest thing you've ever said to me.”

“You're so weird,” Teddy sighs, stepping around him and into the spray. “I love you.”

“Second sexiest,” Billy grins. “I love _you_.”

“We should bring Tommy up tonight,” Teddy says, reaching for the soap. “He loves pizza night.”

“You think he'd like _Speed_?” Billy asks.

Teddy shrugs. “Probably. He liked _Terminator_. Oh, that reminds me. I might need your help tomorrow, if that's okay. We're getting some new puppies from that rescue on 50th.”

“Dude, all you had to do was say 'puppies',” Billy says, feeling excitement rise in his chest. “Obviously, I'm there.”

***

“Whoa.” Billy's eyes are wide as they sweep over the muscular dog in front of him. She doesn't _look_ like a puppy. She looks sort of unimpressed. “Pretty dog.”

“Says she's eight months,” Teddy chews on his lip as he reads her chart. “Rhodesian Ridgeback mix, maybe. They wrote 'plays rough' on here about fifty times, so we should probably watch her.”

“Aw.” Billy crouches down. “Do you play rough, girl? What's her name?”

“America.”

He nods. “Right on.”

America growls at the small black pug puppy that's inching closer to her. It's ten kinds of adorable, but it's already escaped from it's crate twice and pooped on Teddy's sweater. “Not sure how that one's gonna do with everyone,” Teddy frowns. “Cute name, anyways. Loki.”

Loki rolls onto his back and gives Billy a pathetic look. “Oh, okay,” Billy laughs, reaching over to rub the puppy's tiny stomach. “Little brat. What's the deal with that other one?”

The third puppy, a white dog that looks like a broader, jowlier version of Tommy, is seated demurely by the door to the puppy kennels, watching some squirrels run around outside with keen interest. He's completely still, but his tail is sweeping frantically across the floor, the only puppy-like thing about him.

“Dunno,” Teddy says, flipping through his papers. “Doesn't say much about him. Um, he's an American Bulldog, there's an asterisk but it doesn't say what for, he's almost a year...Noh.”

Billy looks up. “No what?”

“No, I mean, his _name_ is Noh.” Teddy scratches his head. “That's gonna be kind of confusing, with training and all.”

“Weird,” Billy agrees. “All right, wanna take them over? See how they do?”

“Might as well,” Teddy says. He points to Loki. “Grab that one, will you? We should keep an eye on him.”

Billy clips Loki's leash on and scoops him up, grinning hugely at Teddy. “New puppies! I'm so excited, it's like our first family adventure.”

Teddy laughs. “It's an adventure all right.” He leans forward and kisses Billy once, softly. “C'mon, boyfriend. Let's show these guys their new digs.”

Loki whines, and pees down the side of Billy's shirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys so much for reading! I've appreciated all your encouragement and feedback and yelling more than you know; writing this fic has been a really great experience and I hope you guys enjoyed it, because I definitely did!  
> <3 <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> I made a photoset to demonstrate what all the puppies look like:
> 
>  


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